A Man's Word
by GoAskAlice137
Summary: Charlie Gale's life is turned upside down when her father is asked to work on a secret SHIELD project. Taken into protective custody, Charlie is thrust into a terrifying world full of superheroes, alien artifacts, and no clue who she can trust. The only thing she knows for sure: getting out is going to be one hell of a fight! Especially with Iron Man standing in the way.
1. Prologue

**Hi there! This story takes place in the Marvel Cinematic Universe of **_**The Avengers**_**, after **_**Iron Man 3**_**, so beware, ******SPOILERS!****

**Full Summary: Charlie Gale's life is turned upside down when her father is asked to work on a top secret SHIELD project. Taken into protective custody by Agent Barton, Charlie is thrust into a terrifying world full of spies, superheroes, and alien artifacts. With no clue who she can trust, she has no choice but to leave her fate in the hands of Director Fury and SHIELD. The only thing she knows for sure: Getting out is going to be one hell of a fight! Especially with Tony Stark and the Avengers standing in the way.**

**However, there is one major difference: in this story, ****Stark DID NOT have his arch reactor removed. ****I just like him having it and I need it for later plot points. **

**I own nothing.**

**Rate T for Language. **

* * *

**Prologue**

Dr. Daniel Gale was the leading mind in Quantum Mechanics at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. He was arguably one of the smartest men in the country, if not the world. And yet, sitting here in front of MIT's most famous alumni, Dr. Gale felt like a first year grad student trying to talk his way out of a failing grade. He was flustered and nervous as he looked across his desk at the calm and collected form of Tony Stark. "I'm afraid that I'm not sure what you're asking me to do here?" Dr. Gale muttered, glancing from Stark to the dark man with the eye patch standing behind him.

Director Fury replied smoothly, "We simply need an outside opinion. That's all Doctor."

"What he means to say is," Stark began, "His people are incompetent and he needs our help."

Fury glared at Stark with his good eye momentarily before returning his attention to Dr. Gale. He held out a folder stamped 'Classified' and Dr. Gale took it anxiously. His heart skipped a beat as he looked at photographs that spilled out, unsure of exactly what he was looking at. But his curiosity had sparked, and he began leafing through the pages of data hungrily. "Where did you find it?"

"Egypt." Fury answered, "We were hoping that you might be able to give us a clue to its origin, as we have already determined that it is non-terrestrial."

Dr. Gale nodded; still staring at the numbers is awe. But, the mention of Egypt had set off alarm bells in his brain. "Does this have anything to do with what happened at the University of Cairo a few weeks ago?"

Fury glanced at Stark, who raised his eyebrows in an 'I told you so' fashion. "You'll have S.H.E.I.L.D.'s full protection, as well as all our resources."

Dr. Gale closed the file and placed it gingerly on his desk. He stared at it for a moment, as if trying to convince himself to walk away. But, he couldn't. His curiosity had already gotten the better of him and driven him ravenous for knowledge. He looked back at the two men, "What about my daughter?"

Fury's eye widened. He had not been informed that Dr. Gale had a daughter, and there was nothing in his office that would suggest he had one. "She can be placed in protective custody."

Dr. Gale looked Fury up and down, no longer just the twitchy scientist. He did not care for Fury. He got the expressed impression that the man would say just about anything to get him on board, even if he did not intend to carry through with his promises. He shifted his attention to Stark. Here before him was _the_ Iron Man. He was supposedly a straight shooter now, though Dr. Gale could remember Stark before his transformation. He had been a hellion. But, the events in New York City and Stark's rescue of the President a couple months ago spoke in his favor. He took a deep breath and leaned forward, locking is gaze on Stark's. "I want _your_ word, that Charlie will be safe."

Stark blinked. His self assured grin faltered for a split second and he glanced at Fury, who looked at him expectantly. He cleared his throat, glancing down at his feet before answering, "You have my word that nothing bad will happen to your daughter."

Dr. Gale nodded and held out his hand, which Stark took. "When do we get started?"

"Right now," Fury said flatly, before turning at strutting out of the office to where two agents stood sentinel in the hallway. He turned to them, "Find Dr. Gale's daughter and get her in here. Send whoever is closest."

* * *

**So there you go. I know it's short, but it's only the prologue. **

**There will be action next chapter, as well as the introduction of another Avenger. I promise! **

**Eventually, I will have everyone in here, but I'm focusing on Iron Man/Tony Stark, Clint Barton/Hawkeye and Bruce Banner/Hulk for now. Please be patient with me! **

**I hope you enjoy :)**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hi there! This story takes place in the Marvel Cinematic Universe of_The Avengers_, after_Iron Man 3_, so beware,**SPOILERS!****

**However, there is one major difference: in this story,Stark DID NOT have his arch reactor removed.I just like him having it and I need it for later plot points.**

**Rated T for Language and Violence.**

* * *

**Part One:**** Titanium **

**Chapter 1**

It was half past five, a comfortably cool mid-September evening, when Charlie Gale made her way up the front stoup of her fourth-floor walkup in North Boston; right next to the welcoming front door of Mama Nona's Pizzeria Italiano. The smells that were wafting from the little eatery made her mouth water and her stomach growl. She was starving, as she often was after her dance classes, four days a week. They were much more strenuous than the vocal lessons that took up the remaining three days.

Charlie's mother had been a founding member of Boston's prestigious Academy of the Performing Arts. Cassandra Lake had been Broadway's brightest star, with "a voice that could make all the angels in heaven green with envy" as one critic at the New York Post had written. That was, until she had fallen in love and given it all up to become a wife and mother. She never regretted her decision; she helped start the Academy when Charlie was only five, the same year she had started her lessons. Cassandra had remained an active member on its board until the cancer had forced her to stop when Charlie was twelve. But, as a legacy, Charlie was able to study at the academy free of charge. She spent every day after school, from two to five (school now let out at 1:15 due to budget cuts), at the studio, training in everything from Ballet to Hip-hop to Contemporary.

Her vocal lessons were going well too, though Charlie often clashed with her instructors. She had a taste for pushing the limits, rearranging the notes and mixing styles. She accepted that the classics were classics for a reason. But, she believed going down that particular road to be futile. The classics had been performed by the greats, who were the greats for a reason. Charlie believed she would never be able to sing like her mother, so why try to compete with her? It was time for the next generation to leave their mark.

As her neighbors like to say, Charlie was the best of both her parents. She had her mother's talent and beauty, and her father's intelligence. "A triple threat," Mr. Bazzoli from across the hall liked to joke. Though, often, it was only the people who knew her best that saw past the first two. Charlie had always had trouble in school. She was impulsive, easily bored, and unable to stay still. Her teachers all thought she was a problem child, even a bit slow, and Charlie had been told so by so many of them that she had begun to believe they were right.

She decided, as she slipped her key into the lock, that she deserved a couple of slices. After all, her father had not been home for nearly two weeks now. She had not even talked to him in the past six days, which was not unusual, but she doubted she would see him tonight. There was no point in cooking a big meal, since she usually took the extra food to Old Mrs. Costello down the hall, but tonight was her bingo night. On top of that, Charlie was sick and tired of TV dinners. She had eaten them for the last three nights.

She had been working hard. She deserved a treat and damn the extra calories.

She stepped into the entryway and headed up the stairwell. She had the hood of her sweatshirt up, covering her sweat-rung pixie cut, and her ear-buds blasting David Guetta's "Titanium", which were connected to the off-brand MP3 played tucked in the pocket of her consignment shop jeans. The zipper of her hoodie was open and the underlying tank top left a good three inched of her flat core visible as she bounced up the steps, singing loudly along to the music and not caring who heard. She would drop her backpack at her apartment, grab a few dollars from the change jar in her room, and then head back down for dinner. But, the instant Charlie reached the fourth floor landing, something felt wrong.

She fell silent as she slowly continued towards her apartment. The hair on her arms stood up, her pulse quickening as she got closer. She pulled the ear-buds out as she became level with the door, staring down at the knob wide-eyed. Holding her breath, she pressed two fingers to it and pushed gently. The door swung open without a sound. Unlatched. Unlocked. Had they been robbed?

Charlie considered turning around, finding a neighbor, and calling the police, but there were no splinters in the frame. It did not appear to her to have been forced open. Maybe she had just forgotten to latch it? Unlikely. But, who knows? Besides, in this part of town, calling the cops was always a last resort. This was an Italian neighborhood. The people who lived here took care of their own. Most cops did not come here. Those who did, where often worse than the criminals they arrested.

Charlie slipped into the living room cautiously. Everything appeared to be in place. The moth eaten sofa was still pressed against the right-hand wall. The old television sat on the milk crate in the far corner. The breakfast dishes were still in the sink, next to the refrigerator. There was really nothing of value to take in here.

At that thought, Charlie's blood ran cold and she bolted into the small hallway that lead to her bedroom, throwing her door open with a thud. She made a b-line to her desk where her laptop set, open and on. A program she did not recognize was flashing code across the screen, searching through her hard drive. "What the hell?!" She breathed, her fingers dancing across the keyboard to disable the invader. But, her efforts were in vain. Whoever had designed the program was in a whole other league than she was. She switched objectives, trying to identify the source. Instantly, two words popped onto the screen: Stark Industries.

"Stark?" Her eyes widened. What the hell would Iron Man want with her computer files?

Suddenly, there was a creak from the floor behind her. A chill shot up her spine, and Charlie knew she was not alone. Breath caught in her throat, she braced herself as she forced her head to turn.

The man who stood in the doorway was just under six feet tall, broad shouldered and well muscled. He was dressed in all black; paramilitary style pants and boots with a v-neck t-shirt and leather jacket. A pistol rested on his hip, dark glasses wrapped around his eyes, and a shock of sandy colored hair stood up on his head. And though the sunglasses prevented her from reading his expression, his body language told her that he was genuinely surprised by her sudden appearance.

Charlie stood up straight, terrified beyond words. She stared at the stranger standing between her and the exit. He took a small step to the side. Instinctively, Charlie mirrored him. He tilted his head slightly, intrigued, as he slowly rose his hands in a calming gesture.

Charlie let her pack slide down her back and rest at her feet, one hand on the strap. She swallowed, her mouth going dry as she played out all the possible scenarios in her head. Not in one, did she make it past him.

He took another step, this time forward, with his hands still raised. Charlie did not budge. There was no way she would let this guy back her into more of a corner. He opened his mouth to say something, but that was when she felt the breeze brush across her face and her eyes darted to the window, catching a glimpse of her curtains rustling in the evening air, before instantly returning to the face of the intruder.

He saw it.

"Wait!" He exclaimed, lunging forward to grab her.

Charlie swung her bag up, throwing it as hard as she could at his face. His body reacted automatically and he caught it with both hands, giving her the split second she needed to turn on her heel and dive, head first, out the window. The iron grate of the fire escape dug into her palms as she rolled onto her back and bounced back to her feet, before grabbing onto the railing and swinging herself onto the stairwell. She dropped down, jumping from landing to landing, until she reached the bottom level and, without hesitation, threw herself onto the ladder, sliding down and then dropping the last nine feet onto the alleyway pavement. She landed cat-like, grunting as her knees took the brunt of the fall, and looked up.

He was leaning over the railing, looking down at her with a bemused smirk on his face. Charlie watched, stunned as he casually swung his legs over the side and effortlessly dropped to the next floor, scaling down the exterior screens. "Shit!" She gasped as his boots hit the pavement in front of her. And then Charlie was off, running as fast as her legs could carry her towards the street. She could hear his footfalls just behind her, and she pushed herself to run faster.

"Charlotte Gale!" She heard him cry, "Stop!"

Charlie cringed inwardly at the sound of her full name as she slid out onto the sidewalk, nearly knocking over a neighbor boy. "Charlie!" he shouted, staring after her and the man on her tail, "What's goin' on?!"

Charlie ignored him, turning down the alley behind Mama Nona's. She had one advantage here: this was her neighborhood. She knew where she was going. Halfway down the alley was a locked chain link fence topped with barbed wire. She grabbed onto the nearest dumpster and pulled herself up, sprinting across the lid and hurling herself into the air, somersaulting over the barrier and landing on her feet. She cried out as pain sprung up her legs, and she fell forward onto her hands, struggling to right herself. She pushed off again, limping slightly as she risked glancing back, immediately wishing she had not. He jumped on the dumpster and pushed of the wall with one foot, landing on the other side without as much as a sound. "Who is this guy?!" She huffed.

She ran out into the street, not pausing to look either way. There was the sound of screeching tires, blaring horns, and angry shouting, but she kept going. Down another alley. Then back onto the main street. Her chest was on fire. Her muscles ached and burned. Yet, he remained just behind her, easily keeping pace. She was not sure she could last much longer, but she was too afraid to stop. She needed to find a place to lose him. A place to hide. She took another right, racing down yet another alley and slipping through a hole in the fence that stretched across the back.

The old warehouse had stood empty for years. It was where kids went to smoke pot and drink beer. The homeless occupied many of the offices and the coroner's van was parked here at least once a week to take another dead junkie away. Charlie normally avoided this place like a plague. She had been inside only once, with her ex-boyfriend, but she remembered the maze it was inside. There were old crates stacked to the ceiling, broken beams and collapsed walls covered in graffiti. She could lose him in there.

It took her a minute to find the door with the busted lock; it was an old rusty one with a pentagram painted on it in red. She threw it open and bolted inside, nearly tripping over the trash on the concrete floor. She dodged around the towering mess that had been left behind, her pursuer out of sight for the first time. She kept going, heading for the old loading dock, but she was slowing rapidly. She could not breathe and her entire body was shaking with the effort. Unable to take anymore, she collapsed onto all fours.

Charlie glanced behind her, coughing. He was no longer there. Gone. She sighed, pressing her back against the stack of crates behind her, struggling to catch her breath. She heard something fall off to her left, somewhere. She pulled her knees to her chest, doing her best not to make a sound, as she began to crawl in the opposite direction. Another noise, this one closer and to the right. She froze.

He came at her from above, dropping down on her like a hawk snatching up a mouse. Charlie tried to run. She leapt to her feet the instant he landed, but he grabbed her by the shoulders, pinning her into the wood. The motion was swift and violent, but it did not hurt. Charlie continued to struggle against his grip. Pushing against him with all her strength, she began screaming at the top of her lungs, "HELP! HELP, SOMEBODY! HELP ME!"

The next thing she knew, the man's hand had clamped down on her mouth. He kept her pinned to the crates now with one arm across her shoulders and his body pressing against hers. She whimpered, thrashing against him, but he was just too strong for her. Tears spilled down her cheeks. As much as she wanted to fight, as much as she wanted to sneer at him in defiance, she was petrified.

He pulled back an inch. His face softened behind his glasses as he looked at her. "I'm not going to hurt you." He told her gently, "I'm going to move my hand now, but only if you promise not to scream. Okay?"

Charlie stared at him, nodding once to show she understood. He slowly removed his hand. "Are you Charlotte Gale?" He asked.

"Charlie." She answered reflexively, her voice shaking.

He nodded and pulled away, gently setting her feet back on the ground. Charlie instantly took a step away from him, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. Sirens were sounding somewhere, getting closer. Vehicles were screeching to a halt outside. "Okay, Charlie." He said calmly, "Your father sent me to get you. I need you to come with me."

Charlie snorted feebly, her anger peaking through her fear, "Bullshit! My father doesn't give damn about me!"

"To the contrary," A new voice rung out from behind her. Charlie turned to see a tall black man in a long leather coat and an eye patch walking towards them. "Your safety was his only condition for him coming to work with us." He stopped a few feet away from her, smirking. "She wasn't too much trouble for you? Was she, Agent Barton?"

"No, Sir." Barton replied, the corner his mouth upturned slightly.

"Work with—what the hell is going on?!" Charlie demanded, panicking now, "Who are you people?!"

"I am Director Nick Fury with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division." He answered precisely, "Your father has agreed to consult with us on a matter of national security. We are taking you into protective custody as a precaution, that's all."

Charlie blinked, unable to believe what she was hearing, "The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division..?"

"You can call us S.H.I.E.L.D."

"So, what?" Charlie spat, "You're like the C.I.A.?"

Director Fury actually smiled, "No, we're a far more specialized division."

"If this is all so precautionary," Charlie questioned sharply, gaining some courage, "Then why the hell is there Stark Tech hacking into my laptop?"

Fury and Barton both looked at her in surprise. "Clever girl." Fury stated, "It's just a security measure. To make sure that you or your system hasn't been compromised."

"Compromised?" Charlie frowned, "By whom?"

"Classified." Fury answered automatically.

"I see." Charlie took a deep breath, "And if I refused to go with you?"

"Miss. Gale," Fury began, "Let me make something perfectly clear. There is a very real threat out there and it's my job to stop it. And, for that, I need your father. So, if I have to drag you in, kicking and screaming in handcuffs, I will. So do us all a favor, and let's do this civil. Do you understand?"

Charlie glared at him before glancing at Barton, who was watching her closely. There was no doubt in her mind that he would be the one doing the dragging. She nodded solemnly, "Yes."

Barton placed a hand on her shoulder, steering her, as the two followed Director Fury outside to where an army of black Suburbans awaited them.

* * *

**So, there you go! :) **

**Chapter 2 will be up soon! **


	3. Chapter 2

**Hi there! This story takes place in the Marvel Cinematic Universe of _The Avengers_, after _Iron Man 3_, so beware,**SPOILERS!****

**However, there is one major difference: in this story, Stark DID NOT have his arch reactor removed. I just like him having it and I need it for later plot points.**

**Rated T for Language.**

* * *

**Part One:**** Titanium **

**Chapter 2**

Charlie had no idea where she was.

After they had left the warehouse, Director Fury had left them, speeding away to some other threat to national security. Agent Barton and a handful of others in black suits had escorted her back to her apartment, where she had been allowed to pack a few changes of clothes. She had watched as they bagged up her laptop, even collecting her portable hard drives and the music equipment she had attached to it. She protested, telling them that she had, in fact, written most of the software herself and it could not be replaced. But, they heard none of it. They ignored most of what she said; only acknowledging her presence when she did something they did not like. There was an agent at the door to push her curious neighbors away. They had watched from the cracks in their doors as the agents had lead her down to the waiting SUVs. Charlie could not help but wonder if she would ever see any of them again.

From the SUVs, she had been placed in a helicopter. From the helicopter, she had been put in a military-looking jet that took off vertically and which Barton had taken the controls of, along with the agent who had been waiting the plane. Charlie had watched every move the pilots made, trying to memorize the control sequences. She knew realistically she would never be able to fly this jet, even if needed, but it had been something to focus on besides her situation.

They had been in the air for over an hour when they finally landed, but Charlie had a sneaking suspicion that they had been flying a lot faster than a commercial plane. She had then been escorted out onto the airfield, lit by stadium lights. It had been dark out, but not as dark as it should be for that time of night, and she wondered if they had flown into another time zone. Regardless, the airfield had not been what she had been expecting. There was a single runway, a hangar, and a small structure under the command tower. That was all. No military base. No mass of buildings surrounded by government issued vehicles. It looked like any airfield that could be found in rural America, she had thought, complete with a rusted out pickup at the end of the field.

From the airfield, the agents had taken her into the building in the tower's shadow and stuck her in a small windowless room. Agent Barton tapped the table. "Take a seat," He told her as if this were the most natural situation in the world. He had taken his glasses off, now that the sun was gone, and she could see his face clearly for the first time. His eyes were a steely grey in the florescent lights, steady and unwavering. He never seemed to blink, like he was afraid he would miss something important if he did.

It was unnerving.

Charlie did as she was told, taking the seat facing the two-way mirror that stretched across the opposite wall. It looked like the interrogation room from any of the crime dramas on cable. She waited expectantly for one of the agents to sit down across from her, but none of them did. They filed out quietly, until Charlie was the only one left in the room, and closed the door behind them. She heard the _click_ of the lock and swore under her breath, "Shit."

* * *

Clint Barton stood on the other side of the mirror, watching the Gale girl curiously. At first, she just sat quietly at the table, with her arms folded in front of her. But, after only a few minutes, she began to fidget. Her left leg began to shake up and down and she was tapping her fingers in a steady rhythm on the tabletop. Then she was up and pacing, back and forth, then sitting back at the table. The strange thing was that her nerves did not seem to be behind her behavior. She seemed, on the outside anyway, completely calm. Her body just refused to remain still.

If Barton was honest with himself, he was impressed. It was not everyday someone came that close to evading him. The way she had dove head first out her window, and the way she had tumbled over that barbed wire, had been absolutely fearless. She had potential. He had no doubt in his mind that, with a little training, she would have gotten away.

Of course, he had been sent to retrieve her, not kill her…

Charlie ran her fingers through her short brown hair and sighed. Her head snapped up and, looking at the mirror, she asked calmly, "Can I at least have my MP3 player back?"

Barton chuckled softly, amused.

"I heard you had an interesting afternoon." Natasha Romanoff appeared next to him, quiet as a shadow.

Barton shrugged, "It wasn't boring."

"Fury's not happy." The Black Widow informed him coolly, "You put on quite a show. Half the neighborhood called the cops."

Barton frowned, "Our intelligence was off. Agents McCarthy and Taylor were supposed to intercept the girl at her dance class, which her father told us she left everyday at 5:30. But, she arrived home at 5:00, while we were doing our initial sweep."

"And she managed to get past the perimeter, how?" Natasha asked, raising a perfect red brow.

"Still trying to figure that out." Barton replied bitterly.

Natasha frowned and turned her attention to the file in her hands. Opening it, she was greeted by the unsmiling face of Charlotte Gale, paper clipped to a thin dossier. "Charlotte Gale. Age sixteen; born December 23, 1997, in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Interesting pedigree," Natasha mused allowed, "Mother was a Broadway actress. Her father is a theoretical physicist." She turned the page, "A classically trained singer, dancer…"

Barton made a disgusted noise. Natasha glanced up at him, "Don't tell me you're embarrassed?"

Barton hesitated, "A ballerina? I'm never going to live this down."

"I was a ballerina." Natasha looked back to the papers in her arms.

Barton looked over at her, genuinely surprised. He grinned sheepishly, "So…ahem… I'm just going to stop talking now—"

"Oh, I would..."

"Yeah…" Barton sighed. After a moment's silence, he asked cautiously, "So, how's it been going on your end?"

"About how you'd expect, putting four geniuses in the same lab, one of which is Tony Stark." Natasha replied, "Everything in here points to high intelligence levels, but her academic record is dismal."

Barton shrugged, "They say Einstein failed math."

"Hmm…" Natasha considered.

They watched as Charlie sighed again and rose to her feet. She strolled to the mirror and crossed her arms over her chest, frowning, "If you all aren't going to come in and talk to me, fine. But, at least show some human decency, and turn the lights down so I can get some sleep while you get your thumbs out of your asses."

"It doesn't matter." Barton smirked devilishly at Natasha, "She's here. She's safe. My mission is complete." He reached over and flicked a switch on the intercom next to the door, and the lights in the room dimmed, "She's your problem now."

"Delightful." Natasha said flatly.

* * *

Charlie was in the middle of the strangest dream. She was on her knees, sitting in front of a large reflecting pool; the water was as smooth as glass. All around her were huge stone columns decorated with colorful hieroglyphs. The walls were open. The air was humid, thick, and smelled of river water. Reeds were blowing in the subtle breeze, and golden dunes sat back against the horizon. She kept her eyes fixed on her reflection in the pool. There was a crown of white flowers in her chestnut hair and dark liner encased her pale eyes. A white cotton tunic hung loosely from her shoulders. "Where am I?" She asked the mirror.

Suddenly, another figure appeared on the water. Charlie looked up at the woman sitting directly across from her. Her skin was smooth and tan like copper. Her eyes were dark like volcanic glass. Her long hair was so black it looked blue. Gold thread was woven into her braids, beads hung around her neck, and a crown sat atop her head that was unlike anything she had ever seen; a perfect sphere of colorful light that was as bright as the sun. She was inhumanly beautiful; stunning to look at. Charlie could not help but stare. "Who are you?" She asked in wonder.

"_I am the mother._"

A door slammed shut. Charlie jerked awake. It took her a second to remember why she was laying on the floor with her duffle cushioned under her head like a pillow. She ran her hand over her face and groaned as the lights suddenly came on, "What time is it?"

"8:00 a.m." A female voice replied, "We thought it best to let you sleep, considering all you've been through."

Charlie sat up, rubbing her eyes, and then climbed into her chair, disoriented. She did not recognize the female agent in front of her. She was small, mousy, and was almost swallowed up by her suit. "I'm Agent Taylor." She said adeptly, "I'll be you're handler while you're here. Anything you need, you ask me, and I'll see if it's possible. Understood?"

Charlie just stared at her, out of patience. "When can I talk to my dad?"

"I'll see if I can arrange a meeting." Agent Taylor replied sharply, "In the meantime, we have prepared a temporary living space for you. We can—"

Charlie stood up abruptly, leaning over the table menacingly. "You think I've being a handful now?" She growled, "Lady, you have no idea how big a pain in the ass I can be! Take me to see my father! Now!"

Agent Taylor considered solemnly her for a moment, before standing and, without a word, leaving the room. Charlie let out the breath she had been holding and slumped back into the chair, cursing herself for losing her temper.

She never claimed to be a morning person.

Exasperated, she was about to lay back down and go back to sleep when the door opened and Agent Taylor stepped into the doorframe, "Come with me. Leave your things."

Charlie followed her out of the room, down a narrow hallway, and into a cramped office. The walls were bleak and white. The battered old desk as covered in unrolled maps and large, bulky cabinets covered the far wall. Agent Taylor strode up to the center locker and pressed a small panel, which slid aside, revealing a biometric lock. She pressed her finger to the pad, entered a six digit code, and then bent down for the retinal scanner. The sideboard slipped to the side, revealing a shinning pair of elevator doors. She pressed the "down" button and stepped inside, holding the doors for Charlie to follow her.

Charlie pressed herself into the opposite corner of the snug space as the doors slid shut. Agent Taylor pulled a bundle of papers from the file under her arm and handed them to her. "A standard non-disclosure agreement," The agent informed her as she flipped through the pages, "Basically, it states that if you tell anyone about anything you see here, you will be charged with treason and prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Sign and date."

Charlie looked down at the contract uncertainly, wondering what secret could possibly be worth all this. But, she did as Agent Taylor asked and signed her name on the last page. Agent Taylor took the papers and placed them back in the folder, before pressing the bottom button on the control panel; there were only two. Instantly, the elevator began to drop. They hurled down at a break neck speed, but it still seemed like it took forever to get to the bottom of the shaft. Charlie wondered how far down they were and began to feel very claustrophobic. She had to clench her fingers around the railing until the doors flew open, and she followed Agent Taylor out.

Charlie's mouth fell open and her eyes widened in disbelief as she looked at the space in front of her. They had entered onto a cat walk above what She believed was a huge aircraft hangar. She moved cautiously to the railing and glanced down at the five story drop in amazement. Below were hundreds of people; agents in black suits, techs in white coats, flight crew, and some people in form-fitting blue jumpsuits. Off each level, above and below her, were numerous corridors that went to everywhere and nowhere, as far as she could tell. Charlie exhaled, "Whoah."

Agent Taylor huffed impatiently, "This way…"

* * *

**Chapter 2 down. Yay! I hope you liked it!**

** I know it's taking forever to get going, but be patient please! I promise there will be at least two Avengers in the next chapter! Maybe more... **

**Chapter 3 will be up soon! **


	4. Chapter 3

**Hi there! This story takes place in the Marvel Cinematic Universe of _The Avengers_, after _Iron Man 3_, so beware,**SPOILERS! ****

**I own nothing. **

**However, there is one major difference: in this story, Stark DID NOT have his arch reactor removed. I just like him having it and I need it for later plot points.**

**Rated T for Strong Language. (There are a few F-Bombs in this one, fair warning!)**

**Reviews are loved! **

* * *

**Part One:**** Titanium **

**Chapter 3**

Charlie followed Agent Taylor through a maze of glinting, metallic corridors. They passed the countless windows of labs, server rooms, command centers and offices. The entire place smelled of disinfectant; like a hospital, only cleaner. Dozens of people passed them in the hall, though most were in too much of a hurry to give her much notice. A few glanced in her direction, but most had their heads buried in paperwork. Charlie felt dizzy. It never seemed to end.

They passed what looked like a cafeteria at one point, and Charlie glimpsed Agent Barton seated alone at one of the tables, sipping coffee out of a white mug with the black insignia of an eagle on the side. His head was down, reading something on the table in front of him. Charlie slowed slightly, wondering what it was, when his head abruptly snapped up and he looked straight at her. The hair on Charlie's arms stood on end and she swallowed thickly, quickly turning away and hurrying to catch up to Agent Taylor. _Creepy!_ She thought, shuddering inwardly.

They came to a second elevator and Charlie had to suppress a groan as she stepped passed the stainless steel doors. They descended another six floors, and by the time the doors opened, Charlie's skin was crawling. She really did not like being this far underground. In her mind she kept visualizing the walls cracking and spilling open until they were all buried alive. It was getting a little harder to breath. Taylor arched a brow at her expectantly, and Charlie forced her uneasiness aside as they took a right down a sterile hallway that dead ended in a pair of polished reinforced doors.

The woman who stood in front of the access way looked like a Victoria's Secret model, minus the lingerie. Scarlet waves framed her porcelain cheekbones, highlighting her bright green eyes and full ruby lips. Her white blouse clung to her in all the right places, and her stiletto pumps accented her black pencil skirt nicely. She stood with her hand on her hip, moving towards them as they approached with the kind of self confidence that Charlie wished she had when it came to her own body.

She looked to Taylor and said in a velvet voice, "Thank you. I'll take her from here."

Agent Taylor gave the woman a slight nod and then left without so much as glancing in Charlie's direction.

"Charlotte?" The woman addressed her.

"Um, it's Charlie." Charlie responded automatically, watching Taylor disappear down the hall, before turning to look at her.

"My name is Agent Romanoff," The woman introduced herself with a sweet smile, "But, you can call me Natasha. I'm in charge of the security surrounding your father's project with us."

Charlie blinked. "_You're_ in charge of security?"

"Yes." Agent Romanoff answered curtly.

"I'm sorry." Charlie began sheepishly, "I've just never met a security guard—I mean, ah, agent—with that great a sense of style."

To Charlie's relief, the woman laughed lightly as she led her down the rest of the passage to the doorway. There was another biometric lock on the wall next to the steel. Agent Romanoff pressed a polished finger to the fingerprint pad, and then bent forward for the retinal scanner. A keypad appeared on the digital screen and Charlie watched as she entered the nine digit code, committing it to memory. There was a hissing noise, and the doors opened slowly. "The work area is a clean room," Agent Romanoff explained as Charlie followed her under the UV lights of the decontamination chamber, "Hold still."

A burst of air came from all directions at once, and then the glass door opposite them hissed and popped open, revealing a very lived-in recreational area. There were two couches and three armchairs, all of which were disheveled and had pillows and blankets piled at their feet. The tables were cluttered with metal cafeteria trays, Red Bull cans and water bottles. Charlie was instantly reminded of her father's lab on the occasions when she would travel across the river and check on him after he'd been gone a few weeks. "The only thing missing is the pile of pizza boxes," She muttered under her breath.

The far wall was entirely constructed of glass, leaving the view of the laboratory beyond unobstructed. There were four men busing themselves with varying pieces of large and expensive equipment, and Charlie instantly recognized two. "Is that Tony Stark?" Charlie asked Agent Romanoff, stunned, and discreetly gesturing to the man standing next to her father in the Black Sabbath T-shirt.

"Yes," The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent answered tersely.

Charlie took a closer look at the remaining two scientists. One was a man in his early sixties with thinning grey hair and watery blue eyes. Charlie could not help but think that he looked familiar. It took a few seconds of scratching at her memory bank before she recognized him. "That's Erik Selvig." Charlie whispered to herself, surprised.

Agent Romanoff's head whipped around, her face breaking into shock for a split second before recovering her composure, but Charlie saw it. "He was guest lecturer at M.I.T. a few years ago. He, ah, gave a seminar on the possibility of Einstein-Rosen bridges existing in deep space. It was really interesting, actually."

Agent Romanoff was still staring at her. Charlie shrugged, "I was bored, so I snuck into the lecture hall."

Charlie's attention drifted to the last man in the room. He was a little shorter than her father, and he had a tired look about him that went beyond sleep deprivation. He looked almost sick in certain shades of light and his dark hair seemed to be graying prematurely at his temples. He had his round glasses resting above eyebrows as he looked into a microscope. "So," Charlie asked carefully, "Who's he, then?"

"That's Dr. Banner." Agent Romanoff obliged her as she strutted towards the glass door.

Charlie did not recognize the name. She watched as Agent Romanoff entered into the lab and tapped her father lightly on the shoulder to get his attention. He turned and spoke a few words to her, and then suddenly Charlie found five sets of eyes locked on her. She smiled nervously, resisting the urge to run out of the room.

Her father removed his latex gloves and exited the lab, moving swiftly towards her. For a moment, Charlie thought he was going to hug her, but he stopped a foot away and folded his arms over his chest. She tried not to let the disappointment show on her face. She had been craving the comfort of his arms around her since this whole thing started; reassurance that everything was alright, but that had been a dangerous notion. Ever since Director Fury had told her that her safety had been his only condition to come here, she had secretly been hoping that maybe things were changing. But, now she saw that that was not the case. He was as distant as ever.

"You made it?" He asked her, shifting uncomfortably.

"Yeah." There was a dry lump in Charlie's throat she was trying desperately to hide.

He cleared his throat, "So, ah… how is school?"

In an instant, her disappointment shifted into rage. She bit down on the inside of her lip to keep from yelling, "How's school? That's really what you're going to go with?" She took a steadying breath, "Dad, what the hell is going on?"

"Not now, Charlie." He sighed, "Later, I promise. I'm busy—"

"No!" Charlie hissed angrily, shoving her index finger into his chest, "I just got chased through Boston and fucking black bagged by some secret government agency, then flown half way across the fucking country! I deserve a fucking explanation!"

"Watch your language!" He snapped in a hushed voice.

"I'm not going to fucking watch my language!" Charlie murmured, "If any situation deserves the word 'fuck,' it's this one! Now, what the fuck is happening here?"

Dr. Gale glanced over his shoulder to where Agent Romanoff stood across the room, in front of the closed lab door. "I was offered an opportunity." He told her quietly, "A once in a life time, opportunity! But, there were some concerns I had about my safety and yours by proxy. There was an incident at another lab… But, it's not important. They assured me that you would be taken care of."

"Taken care of?" Charlie shook her head, "Since when do you care if I'm 'taken care of'? You know, Mrs. Costello called Social Services on you! Again! If I keep covering for you like this, then the State is going to throw that poor woman in a home!" Charlie snorted, disgusted, "Taking care of me would have been turning down the job and coming home Dad! Not having strangers kidnap me!"

Charlie ran both her hands through her hair and tried to force herself to calm down. "What could possibly be worth all of this?" She whispered, exasperated.

Dr. Gale refused to look at her, and Charlie found that it hurt too much to look at him. Her eyes wondered to the three men moving about in the lab. S.H.I.E.L.D. had brought in Tony Stark, arguably the most brilliant engineer on the planet, her father, a theoretical particle physicist, Dr. Erik Selvig, an astrophysicist, and Dr. Banner. "Banner…Banner?" Charlie muttered, "Dr. Bruce Banner?" She could remember cleaning her father's office and finding a stack of old journal articles written by a Dr. Bruce Banner at Culver University, but that had been years ago. She forced her father to look at her, "The _nuclear_ physicist?"

"He's also a biochemist." Her father confirmed.

Charlie's eyes darted from the sheets of data digitally displayed on clear screens to the board-long equations placed throughout the room. To her, it seemed like a jumbled mess. She could make out high gamma radiation readings and inconsistent data sets of varying electrical frequencies. There were maps of the Nile river basin and photographs of ruins in the dessert.

Charlie tried to put the pieces together, but they refused to fit. "Are you..?" Charlie hesitated, "Are you building some kind of weapon for these people?"

"No." Dr. Gale said adamantly, "No, we are not building a weapon." He added, seeing the skepticism on her face, "I promise."

"You promise?" Charlie scoffed, disbelievingly, "Imagine what that means to me."

Dr. Gale rubbed the bridge of his nose, frustrated. "I have to get back to work." He said as he turned and, without even saying goodbye, walked back towards the lab.

Charlie felt so aggravated that she was not sure if she wanted to scream or roll into a ball and cry. She watched as he passed Agent Romanoff and punched in the code for the glass door to slide open. Charlie wanted to say something, anything, to put him in his place. But, the only thing she could think of was, "Your electroencephalogram is upside-down!"

Her father turned to glare at her, "Not now, Charlie!"

Agent Romanoff placed a hand on her shoulder and gently led her from the lab.

* * *

Tony Stark watched Dr. Gale and his daughter through the glass with unhindered, forward curiosity. The man had rushed from the room in a hurry, but had stopped short when he reached the girl. He did not embrace her. He did not even touch her, just stood back with his arms folded. Tony recognized the look on her face instantly; he had seen it enough in the mirror growing up. Howard Stark had been many things to his son, but the tender father had not been one of them. He had a pang of empathy for the girl. She was trying so hard not to let the disappointment show on her face. If Tony had not understood it on such a personal level, he might have missed it.

"Tony." Bruce called from the other side of the lab, "What are you doing? Give Dan and his daughter some privacy."

Tony turned to Bruce and raised his eyebrows in a 'yeah, right' gesture, fiddling with the marker in his hands. By the look on Bruce's face, he had clearly noticed the distance between father and daughter too, but was determined not to let it bother him. Which, Tony mused, was probably a good thing, considering.

Dr. Gale punched in the code for the lock, and the door slid open with a hiss, when the girl shouted, "Your electroencephalogram is upside-down!" at the back of his head.

Dr. Gale turned on his heel and snapped back, "Not now, Charlie!"

Natasha placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder and then led her outside, as the glass door shut again and Dr. Gale returned to his work. Tony watched him from where he stood in front of his white board. He suddenly felt very irritated with the man. He had made Tony promise to protect the girl. Fury had put a lot of time and effort in finding her and bringing her here. There was even a rumor circulating that she had managed to give Hawkeye the run around. And, what was it all for? Dr. Gale did not even seem relieved to see her, let alone, care that she was here.

"What a heartwarming reunion," Tony began dryly, his tone dripping with his trademark sarcasm, "Truly touching. Makes me all fuzzy inside."

"Leave him be, Stark." Dr. Selvig said impassively.

"Let's just get back to work." Dr. Gale appealed to the others.

"Oh, right," Tony scoffed, "Because that's the most important thing. Bruce you want to weigh in on this?"

Dr. Banner did not answer. Tony turned around and found him sitting on his stool, facing one of the digital readout screens. He had his fist resting against his mouth, staring intently at the data sets with an intensity in his eyes that Tony had come to recognize as the preceding to a major breakthrough. "That's not possible." He said quietly to himself.

"What?" Tony implored as he came to stand behind the man, "What is it? Did Timmy fall in the well again?"

Bruce either did not hear him or ignored him. He continued gawking at the screen, awestruck. "That's not possible, is it? But…" Bruce reached out, touching the screen, and enlarged the horizontal graph depicting the changes in the electrical frequencies. Tony stared at it too, but he was clearly missing whatever it was that Bruce was seeing. It looked the same as all the other data sets they had collected, all of them inconsistent. All repeatable patterns in the frequencies were continually interrupted by random static.

"But, it explains so much." Bruce finished as he twisted his wrist and flipped the graph on its head. Then Tony saw it.

"I'll be damned…" He said, bewildered.

"There and there…" Brue pointed to the squiggles on the screen, "Clear Beta and Alpha wave signatures!" He turned to Tony, his eyes wide, "It's not random static! The object is reacting to stimuli!"

Both Dr. Selvig and Dr. Gale rushed to the screen, dumbstruck. Bruce shook his head incredulously, "It's… _aware_."

* * *

**So there you have it. Another chapter down. **

**Chapter 4 will be up soon and there will be action! I promise. I know that I'm taking a while to get to the central plot, but next chapter sets it all in motion! I just needed to give you guys some background! Your patience is appreciated! **

**Thank you and love you all! :D**


	5. Chapter 4

**Hi there! This story takes place in the Marvel Cinematic Universe of _The Avengers_, after _Iron Man 3_, so beware,**SPOILERS! ****

**I own nothing!**

**However, there is one major difference: in this story,Stark DID NOT have his arch reactor removed.I just like him having it and I need it for later plot points.**

**Rated T for Violence and Language.**

**Reviews are much loved!**

* * *

**Part One:**** Titanium **

**Chapter 4**

Charlie had cabin fever. _Bad._

After her infuriating conversation with her father, Agent Romanoff had led Charlie up a flight of stairs and into what appeared to be a dormitory area, escorting her into the temporary quarters that had been assigned to the Gale family. Charlie had been handed a small card and was instructed to call the number on it if she needed anything, otherwise, she was to stay in the room. Then, she had been left alone.

For the first hour, Charlie had sat slumped against the door with her knees up to her chest, crying as softly as she could. She had been angry, _so very angry_, at her father; all the times he left her alone, all the promises he had broken, all the pain he had put her mother through, and she could not remember ever being so infuriated with him. She had wanted to scream, and kick, and punch the walls. She wanted to turn over the sofa and the cots, and shatter all the dishes in the cabinet. All these things had run through her mind, but instead she curled up and cried into her arms.

As angry as she was, Charlie was twice scared. She felt trapped, buried under all the secrets. She had no control. She was powerless. She was completely dependent on strangers. She was alone.

Charlie had not felt like this since her mother had died.

She had cried herself to sleep, right where she had fallen on the beige carpeting, and found herself immersed in another strange dream. She was on her knees, back at the reflecting pool with the beautiful woman seated before her, shimmering like gold in the desert sun. _"Why are you crying?"_ She had asked in a voice like wind chimes.

"I'm afraid." Charlie had confessed to her, "I don't know where I am! I want to go home!"

The woman had reached across the water and grasped her hands tightly, and Charlie felt warmth spread through her body, instantly calming her anxiety. _"Fear not. All will be well." _

Charlie had had these dreams every time she closed her eyes over the next three days. Sometimes she would be at the reflecting pool in the temple, other times she would be floating on her back in the river with the woman washing her gently, like a mother would bathe an infant. Charlie found herself looking forward to these breaks in the bedlam. There she felt safe. There she felt loved. There she was not alone.

No one had come to talk with her since the day she had arrived. She had poked her head out the door once, only to have Agent Taylor shove her back in. She had everything she needed to be comfortable. The little apartment consisted of three rooms: a living area with a kitchenette, a bedroom with two cots, and a washroom. The kitchenette had been stocked with many of the same foods Charlie had in her kitchen at home, leading her to believe that the agents had gone through her cabinets to see what to put in there. The living area had a plump sofa and a plasma television tacked to the wall with a complete home theater system and an Xbox 360, but with no internet access. Under it was a cupboard full of games and movies, some of which Charlie noticed were still in theaters. The T.V. had satellite with all the premium channels. To the side was a bookcase full of the young adult bestsellers and gossip magazines. Charlie had made a face at the magazines; not that she had anything against them, but they were really not her cup of tea. Apparently, they had not been as thorough in that bit of their research.

She had everything she needed, except human contact.

Charlie had never really gotten into social media, but she found herself missing Facebook and texting. She wondered what her friends were doing. Were they thinking about her? Were they wondering where she was? Or had S.H.I.E.L.D. managed to clean up all its loose ends? Those thoughts just depressed her more.

She was starting to get twitchy. Charlie had a difficult time staying still under normal circumstances. Now, after three days locked in a room with a television, she was climbing the walls. "Even prisoners on death row get yard time!" Charlie shouted to no one as she threw herself onto the couch, and switched on Duck Dynasty. She had never watched the show before this, but it was actually pretty funny and a lot of it was _outside_. And outside was where she wanted to be. Besides, there was something strangely comforting about watching a functionally dysfunctional family.

She was two and a half hours into a marathon when she heard the door open. Charlie sat upright, turning towards the noise as her father walked in. He did not say a word as he shut the door silently behind him, just turned and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge. He did not even realize she was there until he straightened up and the two locked eyes. "Hey." He said bashfully.

Charlie snorted and laid back down on the couch, turning her attention back to the Robertson boys on the television.

Dr. Gale sighed, running his thin fingers through his graying hair. "Charlie…" He began, walking around the couch. He nudged her feet with his knees, and reluctantly she pulled them up so he could sit, "I know you're mad at me…"

"That's an understatement." Charlie muttered, not looking at him.

"Charlie, come on now…" Dr. Gale leaned over and gently pulled her up by the shoulders, "Look at me. Please."

Charlie rolled her eyes, exasperated, and glanced in his direction, "What do you want Dad?"

"What I want," He replied, "Is to see you smile."

Charlie just glared at him, "Not going to happen."

"Please?"

"No."

"Charlie…"

"I've been locked in this goddamn room for three days!" Charlie snapped, crossing her arms and looking at the floor, "And I haven't seen or spoken to anyone since they put me in here! So, sorry, but I'm not exactly in a 'smiling' mood!"

Dr. Gale studied his daughter closely. _God, _he thought, _when did she grow up so much? She's not a little girl anymore…just look at her! She looks just like her mother… _He looked down at his hands, ashamed, "You're right. I messed up, Charlie. I shouldn't have taken the job without talking to you first. I'm sorry."

Charlie looked up, surprised. She had never heard her father apologize for anything before. He heaved a sigh, "I guess I really haven't been that great of a father to you. I haven't been around much, lately. You deserve a lot better than that, a lot better than me. And I…I'm going to try to be better, Charlie. After all this is over… I promise, things will change."

Charlie stared at him, unable to believe what she was hearing. Her voice cracked, "Do you mean that?"

"Oh! Charlie!" He wrapped his arms around her snuggly, "Of course I mean it!"

At first Charlie's body had stiffened at his touch, but she relaxed after a moment, burying her face into his shoulder. Father and daughter stayed like that for a long while, Charlie still reeling from his words. A tiny spark of hope flicked to life in her chest. Maybe things could change? Maybe things could actually get better? Maybe they could be a family, like they used to be before her mother got sick?

But, doubt and past experience snuffed that out quickly.

"I'm proud of you." He said into her hair, "I hope you know that."

Charlie pulled away from him. "Why?" She asked quietly.

"What do you mean, 'why'?"

"Well," Charlie began carefully, "What changed? What made you so proud of me, all of a sudden?"

"Charlie…" He sighed, looking at her sadly, "I've always been proud of you!"

She nodded slowly, still not sure if she believed him or not. "Okay…"

He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, lovingly. He smiled warmly, "You know, you left quite an impression with these people."

Charlie thought back to the look on Agent Barton's face when Director Fury had approached him back at the warehouse, and again, in the cafeteria, "Yeah…they don't seem to like me, much."

"No," Her father laughed, "I mean the people I'm working with; Dr. Banner, Dr. Selvig, and Stark… What you said the other day, when you left? You were right. And we have made staggering breakthroughs because of it! Things that, a few days ago, we would never have believed even possible!"

"Seriously?" Charlie asked, surprised.

"Yes!" He exclaimed gleefully, "What made you think it was an electroencephalogram?"

"I saw Mom get enough EEGs done in the hospital that I learned to recognize brainwaves." Charlie looked confused, "You mean it wasn't one?"

The delight on Dr. Gale's face vanished. He looked down at his hands again, looking for a watch that was not there. "I, ah…" He hesitated, "I need to get back to work." He stood and hurried towards the door.

"Wait!" She begged, but her father was already gone.

Charlie was alone again. She stared at the closed door until the tears blurred her vision and she stood, walking with her head down, into the bedroom. She turned out the light, and laid down on her cot, letting out a shaky breath. Her voice cracked as she warned herself, "Just another empty promise…"

* * *

Charlie was basking in the glow of the sun, the waves of the river splashing gently against the fabric at her waist. The white tunic floated like a cloud in the crystal blue water that melted into the sky. The glistening woman, standing a few yards away, held out her arms for her. Charlie waded to her, the water reaching her shoulders, as the woman embraced her with steel arms. The water only came up to her ribs, and Charlie looked up as the woman caressed the curves of her face, _"Fear not. All will be well." _

Then the woman was gone. Vanished in an instant. Charlie spun around in the water, wildly searching for her, but there was nothing. She dove under the water, but the liquid forced its way into her nose and mouth and she was thrust back to the surface. She coughed, struggling to catch air, as she called out, "Hello?!"

"Ch—Charlie…"

She turned towards the sound of her name and saw her father standing on the bank. But, something was wrong. He was clutching at his chest, his face pale white as he collapsed forward onto the sand. He lay on the shore, unmoving. "DAD!" Charlie screamed, swimming as fast as she could towards him, but she seemed to go nowhere. The water became thick and warm. It tasted like iron. Charlie began to shriek, thrashing about in a river of blood. Everything was turning read. It coated her tunic and skin. She was drowning in it! Suffocating!

Charlie startled awake, bolting upright, howling in terror. Her heart was racing uncontrollably. Her body was coated in a layer of cold sweat. She rolled off the bed, landing on all fours on the carpet. "Dad?" She gasped.

No answer.

Something was wrong! Charlie just knew that _something was very wrong_! She had to get to her father!

She leapt to her bare feet and darted from the room. There was no one in the hallway to stop her; no sentries at the door. She ran the entire length of the corridor on a matter of seconds, throwing herself into the stairwell. She took the stairs three at a time, pushing off the walls on the landings, and leaping to the next level. She crashed into the passageway, slamming into the opposite wall before righting herself and sprinting to the reinforced steel doors.

Charlie slid to a halt a yard away, breathing labored and adrenaline pumping. The biometric lock had been destroyed, its face open and sparking. The doors were cracked open, just enough for Charlie to fit her fingers through and pull. The doors held. She tugged harder, panting, and then they gave way with a grinding sound. Charlie nearly fell over, but managed to tumble inside instead.

The UV light was out. The glass door was wide open. Charlie stepped cautiously into the recreation area. The overhead lights were flickering. Everything was eerily quiet. From what she could see, everything was how it had been three days ago. There were food trays, empty cans, and pillow and blankets on the sofas. Nothing out of place.

She turned towards the lab, and her heart stopped beating.

Her father lay in a heap in front of a large steel door on, on the far side of the lab, stamped with a yellow radiation symbol. "DAD!" Charlie shrieked, scrambling forward, slamming her fists into the glass divider in frustration, "DADDY!"

She forced herself to calm down long enough to enter the code. In her panic, it took her three times to remember the correct sequence, before the door slid aside. Charlie rushed to him, tripping over her own feet to get to him. "Dad!" She grabbed onto him, rolling him onto his back. "Oh my God!" Charlie gasped, staring at the gaping wound across his throat. His shirt was soaked through with blood. His face was colorless. His eyes were open and unseeing.

He was gone.

"Daddy!" Charlie sobbed, shaking him as if to wake him, "No! Daddy! Please..." She clenched her fists in his lab coat. "HELP! SOMBODY!" She bellowed, "PLEASE! HELP!"

Charlie heard footsteps coming up behind her. She whipped her head around, her mouth opened to yell out for them, when the knife's blade slashed into her throat.

"You're right," Agent Taylor sneered down at her as Charlie collapsed onto the ground, falling over her father, "You really are a pain in the ass."

* * *

**End of Part One.**

**Sorry for the cliff hanger. (Not really! LOL!) Stay tuned. **

**Part Two: Chapter 5 will be up soon. I swear! **


	6. Chapter 5

**Hi there! This story takes place in the Marvel Cinematic Universe of _The Avengers_, after _Iron Man 3_, so beware, **SPOILERS! ****

**I own nothing.**

**However, there is one major difference: in this story, Stark DID NOT have his arch reactor removed. I just like him having it and I need it for later plot points.**

**Rated T for Violence and Language.**

**Reviews are much loved!**

* * *

**Part Two:**** Radioactive **

**Chapter 5**

Charlie did not feel the knife as it cut into her throat. It was only when she realized what had happened that she felt the pain.

Instantly, she began to choke. Her hand reflexively shot up to grasp her neck, only to push into the hot, wet gash. Blood filled her nose and mouth, pouring into her lungs. Pink foam formed at her corners of her lips as they screamed for air. She could not keep her head erect. The room began to spin and her vision dimmed. Her knees gave out and she collapsed backwards, falling over her father's body. Hitting the lead-lined door hard, she slumped to the floor.

Agent Taylor stepped over her like she was a piece of garbage that she did not want to get on her shoes. Charlie's eyes followed her blearily as she stopped in front of the containment chamber's biometric lock and pulled a small metal device from the breast pocket of her jacket. She placed it gingerly on the fingerprint pad and it lit up, causing the lock to burst open in a shower of sparks.

There was the hiss of an airtight seal breaking, and then the door behind her slid open and Charlie fell back. Her head slammed into the ground with an agonizing thud as she was rapidly swallowed by a blinding light. Thousands of different colors swirled in the air, dancing like the aurora borealis around a perfect glowing sphere that was as bright as the sun.

"My God!" Taylor exclaimed in admiration, "Never had I dreamed… Hail HYDRA! It is magnificent!"

Charlie starred at the light in marvel as she panted wetly. Her vision went fuzzy and all the strength in her arm drained in an instant. It fell to the floor, lifeless, leaving an uninterrupted flow streaming from her throat. She could feel the hot liquid pooling around her as she took one last, rattling breath. Then the world dimmed and all went black. Her last thought was the simple realization, _I'm dying… _

Taylor approached the artifact without any heed of the radiation. She had no need for a protective suit, thanks to the new experimental gamma blocker that she administered to herself. The light danced off her arms and churned off her back, tickling her skin with a static charge. "Finally…" She breathed as she reached out for the sphere.

The room began to vibrate. The rainbow whirls turned to pure crimson tendrils, lashing out and wrapping around Taylor's throat and torso. She began to scream in anguish, her flesh blistering were the artifact held her, the fabric of her suit bursting into flame. It raised her into the air, holding her six feet off the ground as it tore into her. She struggled and shrieked as the tissue melted off her bones. Her entire body was engulfed by fire and shredded limb from limb, littering the floor with crispy bits.

The light shifted again, turning from burning red to a soft gold. The tendrils began to shift and tangle until the form of a woman appeared, gliding gracefully across the flooring to where Charlie's body lay completely still, its eyes staring into nothing. The specter gazed down at her with all the tenderness of a mother looking at her sick child. She knelt down beside her and ran her fingers along the curve of her cheek, _"Fear not. All will be well."_

The tendrils became untied, dissolving and unraveling, until the room was once again filled. The wisps began to spin, weaving in on themselves to create a new apparition. A golden falcon alighted on her chest, digging its glistening talons into her breast. It extended its wings, pushing them forward in a powerful down stroke. Charlie's body jerked like an electrical charge had been sent through it, her skin bombarded with a shower of brilliant sparks. The falcon flapped its wings; forcing her body up, and then collapsing it back onto the flooring, again and again… until Charlie took a breath.

* * *

Dr. Bruce Banner made his way down the stairwell with a steaming cup of fresh coffee in his hand, pushing his glasses up as he rubbed his tired eyes. They had been working non-stop for the past three days, ever since they had been able to isolate the Beta and Alpha wave signatures in their data sets. After that, locating and isolating the Theta and Delta waves had been easy. The troubling part was the seven other distinct wave signatures that they could not identify. Whatever the artifact was, it was not only aware of its surroundings, but it was far more aware than any known living thing on earth. It was a truly invigorating discovery, but after 72 hours, fresh air had been required.

Dr. Selvig covered his mouth as he let out a yawn behind him, "I'm getting too old for pulling these all nighters."

Bruce gave him small smile, "You used to say that back at Culver. What's it been Erik? Ten years?" He chuckled, "Hmm, now I feel old."

They had entered into the hallway outside the lab. Bruce took a sip of his coffee, sighing, "God, this stuff is awful."

"Secret underground base? Two billion dollars. State of the art laboratory? Five million." Dr. Selvig laughed, patting Bruce on the back, "A decent cup of coffee? Priceless."

They came to a sudden stop in front of the lab doors, their mouths dropping open. "What the hell?" Bruce questioned, reaching up and touching the burnt out bio-lock. His eyes darted to the open doorway and his heart started pounding as he raced inside, "Oh, no…no! No! NO!" He darted through the open decontamination chamber with Dr. Selvig on his heels.

"Bruce!" The old man called, "Wait!"

Bruce slid to a stop in front of the glass wall, his eyes instantly falling on the crumpled form of Dr. Gale, "Oh my God! Dan!"

He rushed to the door, his pulse elevating rapidly. He had to stop. He felt something horrifyingly familiar stirring deep within him. It started as a tickle in the back of his mind, and then ripped through him, leaving every molecule of his body vibrating and raw. He leaned against the glass, shaking and focusing all his will on his breathing, forcing The Other Guy back into the recesses of his mind. "I'm good." He told himself, out of breath, "I'm good."

He straightened immediately and reached for the keypad. "Wait! Bruce!" Dr. Selvig shouted, "Containment has been breached!"

Bruce looked past Dr. Gale for the first time to where the containment chamber's door was cracked open, but there was no glow from beyond it. "Damn it!" He whipped around to face Selvig and barked at him, "Go! Get out of here!"

"Bruce?! The radiation!"

"Just go!" He snapped, spinning around and shattering the small glass case labeled 'emergency' on the wall. He slammed his fist down on the bright red button and instantly alarms filled the air and emergency lights began flashing all the way down the hallway. He took another calming breath as he entered the entry code. "Me dying of radiation poisoning?" He muttered under his breath, "That'd be ironic."

Once inside, Bruce rushed to Dr. Gale. "Jesus!" He gasped as he turned the man over. Dr. Gale's head fell back limply, spreading the ghastly gash like a smiled across his throat. It was too late. He was long gone. Bruce swallowed his emotion, laying the body back on the floor and swiping his hand across Gale's eyes to close them.

He bowed his head and sighed desolately. That's when he noticed the secondary blood pool next to the doctor's body, smeared by drag marks, leading into the chamber. _Tony!?_ was his first thought, but that was not possible. Tony had gone topside to call Pepper. Bruce had seen him only moments ago, climbing into the elevator. He stood, cautiously stepping over Dr. Gale, and pushing open the half closed door.

Burnt body parts littered the floor; an arm lay only a few feet away and the legs had been thrown across the room. The torso had been ripped into a dozen unrecognizable pieces and was splattered all over the walls. The skull lay at his feet, jaw open in a silent scream. Bruce covered his mouth, "Christ…"

His eyes wandered to the center of the room, where the artifact had rested, but it was gone. In its place was a large sphere made of interwoven, tarnished metal vines. He stepped closer, carefully peeking through the gaps in the golden strands. He could see the outline of a head and shoulders, curled tightly into the fetal position. "God!" He whispered as he reached out to pry apart the wire, but the instant his fingers brushed against the coils, the vines began to crackle and chip.

Bruce jerked his hand away as the sphere shattered, bursting into a fine dust and floating to the floor. The figure inside collapsed, face first, into the residue. Bruce darted to her, rolling her motionless form onto her back. "Oh God, no!" He swore, horrified, "Charlie! Charlie, come on!"

She was covered in blood; her t-shirt was soaked though and there were red smudges on her arms and face. Bruce pushed his fingers to her throat and felt the faint, but steady rhythm of a pulse. "Charlie?" He called as her put his ear to her lips. He felt a shaky breath blow against his cheek. She was breathing, but just barely. He sighed, relieved, but the relief was short lived. There was too much blood, and he knew that some of it had to be hers. He ran his hands over her body, searching for wounds, but he found none.

Perplexed, he brushed the gold particles from her face, away from her airways, "What the hell has happen?"

* * *

**Sorry this took so long. I actually had to cut this chapter in half because I realized how long it was going to be. **

**Chapter 6 will be up soon! There will be more Fury, Black Widow, Hawkeye and Banner...Maybe some Stark and a few surprises. I promise!**

**Stick with me here! :)**


	7. Chapter 6

**Hi there! This story takes place in the Marvel Cinematic Universe of _The Avengers_, after _Iron Man 3_, so beware,**SPOILERS! ****

**I own nothing.**

**However, there is one major difference: in this story, Stark DID NOT have his arch reactor removed.I just like him having it and I need it for later plot points.**

**Rated T for Violence and Strong Language (another f-bomb, be warned).**

**Reviews are much loved!**

* * *

**Part Two:**** Radioactive **

**Chapter 6**

"What the hell happen?!" Fury shouted, irate as he strolled into the base control center, "Can someone please clear this up for me?!"

The base was in chaos. People were running into one another, scrambling to get to their stations as they hurried to address the situation below. The alarms had been sounding on the lower decks for nearly an hour, but before anything could be done, they had to be swept for radiation. The hazmat crew was down there now, collecting the bodies of Dr. Gale and the unidentified other. The girl had been rushed to the medical wing, where Dr. Banner was treating her in quarantine. Her vitals were low, but stable, but unfortunately, she was still unconscious.

Natasha Romanoff straightened from where she had been leaning over the shoulder of a young technician seated in front of a computer monitor. She had changed into her Widow suit, her crimson locks bouncing above her shoulders as she turned to address Director Fury's question. She took a steadying breath, determined to retain a collected demeanor. "Sir," She beckoned to him, "I think you should see this."

Fury strode to the screen, a grim expression set firmly on his face as he rested his hands on his hips. "Show him." Natasha instructed the tech.

The young agent removed his head set and turned to the director, "This is the security video from Lab V at 0130 hrs, Sir. I've enhanced the audio as best I could."

"Play it." Fury ordered.

The tech turned back around and queued up the recording. Instantly, a crystal clear image of the lab filled the monitor. Dr. Gale was shown at his station, alone in the room, bent over his computer. Suddenly, the lights dimmed and there was a popping noise. He stood, moving towards the glass door, when Agent Taylor unexpectedly appeared on the other side, looking disheveled and out of breath. "What's happened?" Dr. Gale asked her, going up on his toes to look past her.

"Security has been breached." Taylor exclaimed, "I need you to come with me Doctor! Now!"

"Were we notified about a breach?" Fury growled.

"No sir," Agent Barton called from the doorway as he moved briskly towards them and stopped beside Natasha, his attention instantly locking on the screen, "Not until Dr. Banner hit the alarm."

"Nice of you to join us, Barton." Fury said sardonically.

"I came as soon as I got the call, sir." Barton replied, "I was off base. Care to catch me up?"

"Just watch." Natasha told him.

Back on the monitor, Dr. Gale jerked the door open. But, before he could step outside, Taylor forced her way in, shoving him back and pulling a switchblade from her pocket. The door locked behind them with a click. "What are you—?" Dr. Gale began but, he did not get a chance to finish. Taylor swung the blade forward with expert precision, slashing open his throat. He grabbed at the wound, choking as blood poured from his neck and coated the front of his stark white coat. Collapsing, he knocked over a metallic tray that clamored loudly to ground, splashing in the hot pool of blood that was quickly forming.

Taylor stared down at him, watching him die with a serene look on her impish face. "Bad timing, I'm afraid Doctor." She giggled as she knelt down beside his struggling form, "You were suppose to be out with the others." She grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her, "Oops."

The light left Dr. Gale's eyes and his body went slack. Taylor snorted and pushed his face into the blood puddle, "Fool."

"God." Fury breathed, watching as she began to peruse the data displayed on the monitors, "One of ours?" He turned to the room and barked, "I want to know how this happened! Now!"

At once, the chaos intensified. Every agent hurried to carry out the Director's orders. "Sir," The tech called to him anxiously, "You really need to keep watching."

Fury turned back to the screen as Charlie scrambled through the decontamination chamber and into the recreation area, breathless and glancing around in panic. Barton tensed, "What's she doing there?"

Natasha placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him as they watched Charlie turn to the glass wall. "DAD!" She screamed, running to the door and pulling on it, slamming her fist into the pane, "DADDY!" With shaking hands, she tried to punch in the code, but when she tried the door it would not open. She tried again, and again it remained locked. Punching in the code the third time, the door swung open and Charlie threw herself inside.

"How did she get the code?" Fury demanded.

Natasha's eyes remained locked on the screen as she answered softly, "She watched me enter it…"

Charlie raced to her father's side, streaking past Taylor waiting just behind the monitors. She grabbed onto her father. "Dad!" She cried as she turned him over. Her head whipped back, "Oh my God!" She began to sob as she shook his body, trying to rouse him, "Daddy! No! Daddy! Please…" She sat up and began to shout, "HELP! SOMBODY! PLEASE! HELP!"

Taylor stepped out from her hiding place, and Charlie turned with her mouth open, when the knife cut into her throat. Barton and Natasha flinched in unison, momentarily looking away from the screen. Charlie did the same thing her father had, reaching up to grab the wound as she began to choke. "You're right," Agent Taylor sneered at her as Charlie fell over her father and slammed into the containment chamber door, before falling to the ground, "You really are a pain in the ass."

"Bitch." Barton hissed. His muscles under Natasha's hands had gone rigid and his fists were white knuckled.

"Charlie is alive." She told him quietly, "Just barely."

"How?"

"We don't know." Fury answered him, "Hopefully, this tape will give us some answers."

They watched as Taylor stepped over her and popped the chamber lock. The door creaked open and Charlie fell in, landing on her back heavily, as Taylor stepped around her and out of sight. Instantly, the tech's fingers began to dance across the keyboard. "This was recovered from inside the containment chamber," He told them as the picture on the screen changed.

Taylor approached the glowing orb, the swirling colorful light blowing into her. "I don't understand," Natasha muttered, "That much radiation should have made her sick instantly."

"Not necessarily." Dr. Selvig's voice called from behind them. He approached the screen, standing beside Fury with a bundle of papers in his arms, "A friend of mine at Harvard University was attempting to develop a gamma blocker. His lab was ransacked a week ago and his prototype stolen." He looked to where Charlie lay, half in the room, and struggling to breath as the blood pooled around her, "God in Heaven…"

"My God!" Taylor exclaimed on the monitor, throwing her hands up, "Never had I dreamed… Hail HYDRA! It is magnificent!"

"Did she just say HYDRA?" Barton asked flatly.

"Yep." Natasha confirmed.

"I didn't think HYDRA was still operating…" Barton trailed off as he and Natasha turned to Fury in unison.

"They're not." Fury hissed. Again, he whipped around and shouted to the room, "Call Captain Rogers in New York! Get his ass out here! Now!" Again, there was a flurry of activity as the Director turned back to the screen. "If HYDRA is coming out of the wood work," He muttered, "We better get ready…"

On the screen, Charlie's arm went limp and her body still. Her eyes stared unseeingly up at the camera. She was gone. "No…" Natasha said, "No, that's not right…"

Suddenly, the orb flared and screen went red. Nothing could be seen, but instantaneously a horrifying scream burst out of the speakers. It was the unmistakable sound of a woman in intense pain. The hairs on the back of Natasha's neck stood up reflexively. They seemed to go on for minutes, but in reality it was less than sixty seconds. When the scarlet light dimmed, Agent Taylor could be seen on the floor, the walls and on the ceiling. Natasha did not even attempt to hide the small smirk of satisfaction that crossed her lips.

Again, the orb flared and the screen turned gold. It was not as opaque as the red had been; Charlie's body could be made out in the haze as it shifted and swirled. Barton leaned closer to the screen, "Is there someone still in there?"

"What?" Natasha questioned.

"There's a person standing beside her…" Barton pointed to the screen, "There…See?"

"No…" Natasha shook her head.

Barton blinked and suddenly, the figure was gone, replaced by something smaller. An animal? No, a bird, sitting on Charlie's chest. "What the..?"

Charlie's body began to convulse, like it had been electrified. All of a sudden, the light came back into her eyes and she took a harsh breath. The golden haze began to condense around her into hundreds of thin, white hot, metallic wires. They hovered above her, abruptly piercing her skin and wrapping around her open throat, binding it. Her muscles clenched. Charlie whimpered in pain as she was lifted into the air like a puppet on strings. They swirled around her, guiding her into the orb where her body slowly folded in on itself and the wire coiled tighter and tighter around her, until she was entombed in a perfect molten sphere.

"What the fuck was that?!" Fury nearly shouted at the screen, his eye wide with disbelief, "I am so done with this alien shit!"

No one said anything for a long while. They all just continued to stare at the screen. "Absolutely incredible." Dr. Selvig breathed, "Amazing…" The agents all turned to look at him. A strange look had come across his face, as if he had just realized something. "What time did this happen?" He asked the tech.

"At 0157 hrs, exactly, sir." The tech replied.

"Is that significant Doctor?" Fury asked.

"Yes." Dr. Selvig replied in awe, "It's what I came to tell you. During this event, we recorded massive amounts of Beta and Alpha wave output. But, at 0157 hrs exactly, the artifact went dormant. No readings of anything; no Beta, Alpha, Theta or Delta waves. Not even any radiation. It appears to be, for all intensive purposes, dead."

"What does that mean?" Natasha questioned, watching as Bruce touched the sphere on the monitor.

"I wish I knew." He replied faintly.

* * *

"No signs of radiation poisoning." Bruce said aloud as he swept the Geiger-counter over Charlie's unconscious form in the hospital bed, "And no signs of radiation."

"Well, that's a good thing. Isn't it?" Tony said anxiously through the intercom. He stood on the other side of the observation window with his arms folded over his chest and his hand resting on his chin, looking into the isolation chamber where Bruce was doing his best to keep Charlie stable, "I mean, radiation is pretty much always a bad thing."

"Pretty much always, yeah." Bruce muttered as a medical technician in a hazmat suit hung a bag of saline next to the bed. He gently turned her left arm and wrapped a tourniquet around her bicep, tapping her skin to raise her veins. Wiping the crook of her elbow with an alcohol swab, he tried to administer the I.V. needle, but it refused to penetrate. "Hmm…" He pressed harder, and the thin metal tube bent against her flesh.

"'_Hmm…' _what?" Tony asked, leaning forward, trying to see over Bruce's should through the glass, "_'Hmm…' _doesn't sound like a good thing."

"I can't insert the needle." Bruce stated, perplexed.

"What do you mean?"

"It won't go through her skin." He turned to the nurse beside him, "Do we have any needles with a higher tinsel strength? Maybe a thicker gauge?"

The med-tech thought for a moment before turning and pulling a white carton from the bottom of the medical cart. She held it out to Dr. Banner, "14 gauge, titanium carbide. Toughest we got."

Bruce took one of the needles from the sterile case; it was twice as thick and triple the length of the one before. He attached it to the I.V. and lined it up with the vein under her skin, before applying pressure. The needle slid in with only a minimal amount of resistance, and he taped it firmly in place. "Interesting." He mused as he checked the saline drip.

"What's '_interesting'_?" Tony questioned restlessly, "What's going on in there? What'd that thing do to her?"

"I need to run more tests to be sure…" Bruce responded, picking up the chart on the end of the bed and thumbing through it, "But…"

"But?" Tony took a step towards the window, "Come on Bruce! Just make an educated guess. Not even a guess! More like an informed observation."

"Well, it's just speculation at this point," He said hesitantly, "But, it appears her molecular density may have increased."

"What? You mean like Rogers?" Tony asked, stunned.

"Theoretically, it's possible." Bruce lifted his glasses and rubbed his eyes, "There was a reason we used Gamma radiation when we were trying to recreate the Super Soldier process. And the artifact certainly gave off enough radiation to recreate…that particular incident." He sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned towards Tony, "The security video clearly shows the artifact…injecting her with something, directly into the deep tissue. That, added with the radiation… God only knows what it did to her."

He place the chart back at the foot of the bed and turned to look at Charlie. They had cleaned as much of the blood off her as they could, and with her hands resting at her sides, she looked almost peaceful. There was no sign that her throat had been cut open. In fact, there was not a single mark on her. He turned back to Stark, leaning against the foot board, "I'm not sure whether surviving was lucky or not."

"Poor girl." Tony sighed, running his hand through his hair. His face was shaded with guilt, "God! What a cluster—"

"Doctor!" The nurse said sharply.

Bruce spun around. Charlie's vitals suddenly spiked, and her breathing became labored as her entire body went rigid. Her hands clenched into fists. Her eyes fluttered open, darting around the room, terrified. Her head fell back on the pillow and a low moan escaped her lips. "Charlie?" Bruce rushed to her side, "Charlie can you hear me?"

"Y—yes…" She groaned again, followed by a sharp intake of breath.

"Alright, good. My name is Dr. Banner." He leaned closer to her, softening his voice, "Do you know where you are?"

"N—no…" She sobbed, "Ahhh! God!"

"Charlie?" Bruce tensed, "Charlie, what's wrong?"

"Ah…! I—it…nnnhh…It hurts!" She cried, her arms curling to her abdomen.

"Okay," Bruce turned to the nurse, "Get me morphine, stat!" She scrambled to the med cart and grabbed a syringe, as Bruce turned back to Charlie. "Alright, can you tell me where?"

"Nnnhh…" She gritted her teeth, hunching in on herself as her breathing became increasingly heavy and uneven.

"Charlie!" Bruce called to her, "Where does it hurt?"

"E—EVERYWHERE!" Charlie cried, her body lurching forward as she threw her head back and shrieked, "AH_H__**IEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! **_"

The sound that came out of her mouth was unlike anything Bruce had ever heard. It was painfully high pitched and burst forth in solid waves. He clapped his hands over his ears and cried out. The room began to vibrate; the bed slid across the floor and the cart flipped and slammed into the wall, sending medical supplies skidding everywhere. The nurse collapsed next to him, unconscious with blood splattering across her face shield. Glass and sparks suddenly rained down on him from the lights as the bulbs exploded.

Bruce felt the terrifying sensation of the Hulk spurring into consciousness, bubbling up inside him as it tore towards the surface. He pushed back with all his will, but the waves of sound beat into him, weakening his resolve. He tried to think. Glancing around, he grabbed the nearest syringe and crawled to the bed, grabbing onto the railing and thrusting the needle into the I.V.

Almost instantaneously, the sound died. Charlie's eyes rolled back and she collapsed back onto the pillow, once again unconscious. Bruce dropped back down onto the floor, the Hulk tearing back into him. He grunted, grabbing onto his hair and pulling at the roots as his skin tinged green. "Ahhhhr!" He bellowed, slamming his fists into the linoleum, "Hhrmm!"

"Bruce?" Tony called faintly. His ears were ringing loudly and blood was trickling down his neck. There was a cut above his right eye from where the window had shattered in his face. He crawled to where the door had been torn away, hoisting himself up on shaky legs as he stumbled into the room, "Bruce? What the hell…?" He looked around at the destroyed room, disoriented. The lights had been blown out, but were still sparking periodically. Medical supplies littered the floor and the med-tech lay motionless beside the cart. Charlie lay limp on the bed, her arm flailing over the side. "Bruce?" He called again, some sound returning.

"Raaaaahh!" Bruce spun around, throwing his fists wildly at Tony.

Tony ducked at the last second, leaping back as Bruce flew into the wall, howling. "Bruce!" he called to him, alarmed. He rushed forward, and grabbed hold of the man's shoulders tightly, "Bruce! Come on, Big Guy! Calm down! It's me!" Bruce thrashed against his grip. Tony could see Bruce and the Hulk dueling for control in the man's eyes…and Bruce was losing. "Bruce! It's cool!" He tried to reassure him, "Come on man! Your okay! We're okay!"

Bruce grabbed onto his wrist, panting. "Tony?" He asked gruffly.

"Yeah man," Tony assured him, "I'm here. Everything's good."

Bruce slouched forward and took a deep breath. He released Tony's wrists and held up his shaking hands, "I'm good. I'm alright."

"Welcome back." Tony uttered with a crocked smirk, doing his best to hide how frightened he had really been, "What the hell happened?"

Bruce shook his head breathlessly, "I have no idea."

* * *

**Hi guys! :)**

** I'm going to take this opportunity to clear a few things up. In this story:**

**1) There is no Black Widow/Hawkeye relationship. Sorry, if you like that pairing, but it doesn't really do anything for me. They are good friends, maybe love each other in a platonic way, but they are not lovers! If you want to go the route of the comics, they may have been "together" before the Black Widow joined S.H.I.E.L.D., but that had nefarious undertones. So for the purposes of this story, they are team mates and close friends, like brother and sister. **

**2) THERE IS NO SLASH IN THIS STORY! I don't have a problem with it, but it doesn't work here. Tony and Bruce are just great friends and team mates. **

**3) The only pairings in _this_ story are those set by the movies, aka Tony/Pepper, etc. **

**Thank you all so much for your continued support! I love you all, and I hope you are enjoying the story! :D**

**Chapter 7 will be up soon! **

**What will happen when Charlie wakes up? How will S.H.I.E.L.D. handle a super-powered teenager? There will be more Bruce and Tony! Maybe some Hawkeye and Widow. And Captain America is on deck for the up coming Chapter 8! **


	8. Chapter 7

**Hi there! This story takes place in the Marvel Cinematic Universe of _The Avengers_, after _Iron Man 3_, so beware,**SPOILERS! ****

**I own nothing.**

**However, there is one major difference: in this story, Stark DID NOT have his arch reactor removed.I just like him having it and I need it for later plot points.**

**Rated T for Language.**

**Reviews are much loved!**

* * *

**Part Two:**** Radioactive **

**Chapter 7**

News of an explosion of some sort in the medical wing spread through the base like wildfire. New alarms began to wail on all levels, alerting everyone to the latest danger. Within minutes, a fully equipped, Special Weapons and Tactics team had arrived at the entrance to the section, waiting at the doors for the order to breach.

Clint Barton raced beside Agent Romanoff down the corridor, trailing on Director Fury's coat tails as he pushed his way through the pack to the head of the squadron. "What are we looking at?" Fury's voice boomed at the team leader as Barton came to a halt, his shoulder pressed to the door, peering through its slim window. The hall beyond was dark with electric sparks showering down from the florescent lights. He took a deep breath through his nose to steady his racing heart as he looked into the void, not knowing what waited on the other side. He hated tight spaces; give him the open air and a rooftop any day.

"Unknown, sir." The leader replied, "We lost contact with Dr. Banner in the med-wing at 0347 hrs."

Fury sighed in frustration as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "Is this night ever going to end?" He pulled his pistol from his holster, "Barton, I want you and Romanoff on point."

"Yes, sir." Barton answered automatically as Natasha swiftly mirrored his position against the door. He pulled the gun from his hip and sighed ruefully; scowling as he glanced down at the weapon. "Wish I'd have known it would be one of _those_ days…" He muttered to himself, "I would have come better prepared. One day off…I swear!"

"Oh, stop whining." Natasha purred, pulling her own firearm, "Time to go to work."

* * *

"Is she okay?" Tony asked as Bruce rolled the med-tech onto her back and removed the hazmat suit's head covering. Blood was dripping from the woman's ears and nose, pooling on the white protective plastic. She looked very pale, but Tony was not sure if he was imagining it or not. He had taken quiet a hit to the head himself; the first shock wave had shattered the window and thrown him onto his back, his head slamming into the floor. He gingerly touched the knot under his hairline at the thought.

"Her pulse is steady." Bruce answered, gently turning her head, "But, it looks like her eardrums burst. Possible concussion, maybe even bleeding on the brain…She needs an MRI."

He stood and moved to the intercom on the wall to dial out, but there was a problem, "Hmm…phone is broken."

"What about you? Are you okay?" Tony followed the man with his eyes, still pressing on the lump on his scalp.

"What?" Bruce turned to look at him, "I told you, I'm good now."

"That's not what I meant…" Tony breathed.

"I'm fine, really. I hate to say it, but the Hulk took care of that." Bruce moved towards him, reaching up to examine the cut above Tony's eye, "Hold still."

"Hey! Ouch!" Tony flinched as his fingers pushed against the abrasion.

"That's going to need a couple stitches…" He pushed Tony's head to the side to look at his ears, "What about you? Are you alright?"

"Me?" Tony grinned, "Never better. Fit as a fiddle."

"Right." Bruce said dryly, shaking his head, "You need an MRI, too."

"But, Mom!" He whined.

"No 'buts' Tony." Bruce moved towards Charlie, mindful of the supplies littering the floor, "Your pupils are uneven. You've got a concussion, too."

Tony watched as Bruce gently repositioned the girl's arm back onto the bed. All of the many machines that had been attached to her were now on opposite ends of the room, smoke pouring from their shattered screens. "What did you give her, anyway?"

"Good question." Bruce sighed.

"You don't know? Seems a bit negligent, Doc."

"I didn't exactly have time to stop and look, Tony." Bruce bent and snatched the used syringe from the linoleum. A small smile touched his lips, "Looks like we got lucky. Diazepam. 10 mg."

"Didn't think a man like you believed in luck, Bruce." Tony rubbed the back of his neck, it was beginning to feel very stiff and his head was throbbing.

"Today, I do." He rubbed his hand over his face, "You have another word for why we're still alive?"

"How about…" He tapped his chin, "Divine intervention."

"Didn't take you as the religious type." Bruce said and sighed.

"Today, I am." Tony stated, matter-of-factly.

"Really?" He smirked.

"Yep." Stark sneered, "I like to think that there is a special place in Hell for people like Taylor. Nice and toasty."

Bruce nodded, "I can get behind that."

Tony moved beside Bruce, looking down at Charlie with genuine concern in his eyes. She really was a very pretty girl. Her skin had a soft sun-kissed glow to it, and a nearly flawless complexion with a small beauty mark just under the corner of her right eye. Her bone structure was strong, yet elegant and regal. She had long, thick lashes, and her short hair complimented her cheekbones perfectly. But, as he took in the sight of her, all he could think about was the unbearable look on her face as she clenched onto her father's limp body, begging the security camera for help."What's going to happen to her?"

"Tony," Bruce murmured dishearteningly, "I don't even know if she'll live through the night. Let alone, what's going to happen tomorrow..?"

The sound of footsteps sounded in the corridor, soft and deliberate. Both men turned in unison as Agent Romanoff covertly entered into the room with her pistol drawn. Her emerald eyes danced around the room; darting from the unconscious nurse, to the shattered window and the flickering bulbs. She pressed the activation button on the radio in her ear, "I've found them… Quarantine IV." Lowering her gun as she approached the scientists, she asked softly, "Are you two all right?"

"We're fine." Bruce replied calmly, but Tony thought he heard an edge to his voice that had not been there before.

Within seconds, Director Fury strode through the empty doorframe, with Agent Barton and the entire S.W.A.T. unit in toe. With a single nod from the Director, the team instantly took defensive positions around the quarantine chamber with their rifles at the ready. Barton stayed just inside the doorway, shoving his pistol back into its holster as he took in every detail of the scene, his forehead creased in scrutiny.

"The hell happened here?" Fury bellowed, staring around at the demolished room with a wide eye.

Tony and Bruce locked eyes for a split-second, and Tony could swear Bruce was trying to tell him something, but he was unaware of his friend's intent. He touched the bloody cut above his eye and winced, his fingers coming away wet with fresh crimson, "Ah…well, that is a good question."

"Well..?" Fury pushed, folding his arms across his chest and frowning.

"We don't have enough data yet." Bruce answered sharply, not looking at the director as he returned his attention to Charlie, pulling a blanket up over her chest.

"I'm sorry?" Fury snapped, "You don't have enough data yet? Tell me Doctor, exactly what kind of data is it you need?" He spread his arms out to indicate the room, "Because, from where I'm standing, it's pretty clear that something destroyed this place with you and Stark, here, inside!"

"It's not that simple…" Bruce began, but Fury cut him off.

"Try and explain it to me then, Doc." The Director took a step towards him.

Tony noticed Bruce's face twitch with irritation as he turned from the hospital bed to face the larger man. "Sound waves." He breathed crossly.

"Sound waves?" Natasha questioned, glancing at Barton, "From where?"

"From her." Fury practically spat, his eye locking on Charlie as he took another step towards the hospital bed. Bruce shifted, moving between the Director and the child protectively. "Is there a problem, Doctor?"

"No." Bruce said flatly, not budging.

"Bruce," Natasha probed gently, "What happened?"

Tony glanced from Bruce to Fury and back again. He could feel the tension mounting in the room, as the two men stared each other down. All at once, Tony understood why Bruce was so anxious. He was afraid of what S.H.I.E.L.D. would do once they discovered the effects of the artifact on the girl. And why wouldn't he be? After everything that Banner had been through, would it really be any different for her?

Bruce sighed through his nose, "She screamed."

"I beg your pardon?" Fury exclaimed, "Did you just say, 'she screamed'? I must not have heard you right."

Bruce shook his head, "She screamed. She woke up in intense pain and before I could administer anything for it, she…_screamed_." He gestured to the destruction in the room.

"So," Fury breathed, exasperated, "You're telling me that she did this…_with her voice?_"

"Yeah," Stark interrupted, moving to stand beside Bruce, "That's pretty much what happened…"

"How is that even possible?" Barton asked, shifting his weight as he turned to look at her.

Bruce pinched his nose again, "When Taylor slit her throat… We know from the security video that the artifact wrapped itself around her neck. Her vocal cords must have been directly exposed to the…um…radiation."

Fury went eerily quiet. He looked from Agent Romanoff, who had knelt down to check on the med-tech, back to Agent Barton by the door. "Move her down to containment," He ordered the man, "Now. Before she wakes up again."

Barton nodded solemnly, moving towards her, when suddenly Bruce began to shout, "Containment? You cannot be serious! She needs a medical facility! Not a prison cell!"

"Dr. Banner," Fury said cautiously, his hand automatically retreating to his firearm, "It's for the safety of everyone in this facility…"

Bruce snorted, scowling at the man with his hands curled into fists.

"I think maybe you should remove yourself from this situation, Bruce." Natasha urged him delicately, "For everyone's sake."

"No!" Bruce thrust a finger at Fury, his eyes turning a little greener, "No! I think I'll stay right here! In between you and her!"

Fury stared at Bruce, his hand tightening on the pistol grip, "Stark, would you like to help me out with this?"

"Um, no." Tony placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder soothingly, "No, I wouldn't. I'm with him on this one, Director." He added with a sarcastic shrug, "Sorry."

Fury sighed, rubbing his brow, "Dr. Banner, I cannot leave this threat unchecked..."

"She's not a threat!" Stark snapped sharply, "She's a kid!"

"Then what to you purpose, Doctor?" The Director ignored Tony, looking straight at Bruce, "We can't exactly leave her in here…"

"Put her away from your agents! Isolation! I don't care! Just, somewhere we can treat her!" Bruce took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly, "I am not letting you put that girl in a cage!"

"Alright, Doctor!" Fury relented, holding up his hands in surrender, "Alright… You win."

* * *

**Hi guys :)**

**Okay, so again I decided to split this chapter in half, more for aesthetics than length.**

** So...****Chapter 8: Charlie finally regains consciousness and Captain America makes his debut! There will me more Bruce and Tony, as well! **

**I will post this ASAP! I promise!**

**P.S. I thought it was obvious, but I've been naming the Parts after songs. Part One was David Guetta's "Titanium" Ft. Sia, and Part Two is "Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons. ****Part Three's title will be a little more off the American Top 40 chart. I'll let you know the name of the artist when we get there. **

******Thanks for reading guys! Please stay with me! You're all awesome!**


	9. Chapter 8

**Hi there! This story takes place in the Marvel Cinematic Universe of _The Avengers_, after _Iron Man 3_, so beware,**SPOILERS! ****

**I own nothing.**

**However, there is one major difference: in this story, Stark DID NOT have his arch reactor removed. I just like him having it and I need it for later plot points.**

**Rated T for Language.**

**Reviews are much loved!**

** You guys probably get it by now :)**

* * *

**Part Two:**** Radioactive **

**Chapter 8 **

Everything was heavy. Charlie stirred in her hospital bed, her body feeling sluggish. Her consciousness pushed up from the darkness, groggy from the drug induced sleep, her eyes fluttering open. The florescent lights were too bright. They hurt her eyes to look at them. She turned her head and found herself staring at the peaks and valleys of a heart monitor. She watched the lines rise and fall in a steady rhythm, beeping softly, with confusion. She shifted uncomfortably, becoming more aware, and looking down at her hands. Intravenous tubes were attached at the crook of each arm, running to various bags of fluid hanging next to the bed. There was a cuff applying pressure to the tip of her right index finger, and what looked to be a hospital bracelet on her wrist.

She tried to move, but her body protested, paralyzing fatigue instantly shooting through her nervous system. The needles in her arms pinched under her skin, and she groaned. Her throat was raw, and her mouth was bone dry. She was so thirsty! Why was she so thirsty? She swallowed almost painfully. "H-h-h…" She rasped feebly, "h-help…me."

She tried to raise her head and look around, but the room began to spin and she collapsed back onto her pillow. She could feel the pull of electrodes on her temples and on her chest. Why was she here? She tried to remember what had happened, but her thoughts were jumbled and slow. She swallowed again, dryly. "H-hello?" She managed to whisper a little louder, "A-anybody?"

Immediately, there was a shuffling somewhere to her left. A man appeared beside her bed, looking down at her through round spectacles. Charlie looked at him hazily, trying, and failing, to recognize his tired face. "Hello, Charlie." He began tenderly as her rolled a stool from somewhere out of view and sat down next to her, "My name is Dr. Banner, but you can just call me Bruce. Alright?"

Charlie nodded meekly as he pulled a small flashlight from his trouser pocket, and leaned over her. He shined the light in each of her eyes, taking careful note of her pupils' reaction, as she automatically tried to turn away from it, "How do you feel?"

"I-I…feel…s' tired…and…and thirsty…" Charlie managed to say, her eyes rolling in their sockets.

"I bet you are…" He muttered, putting the flashlight away and holding a glass of water to her lips. He cradled her head gently to help her drink, "The drugs haven't completely worn off yet. But, don't worry; it shouldn't last too much longer."

She gazed up at him, perplexed. "W-what..?" She stammered, "What is this place..?"

He gave her a bemused smile, "A compromise…"

"I don't…" She swallowed thickly, "I don't understand..?"

Dr. Banner pressed the tips of his fingers to his lips, looking at her forlornly. "Charlie…" He paused to take a deep breath, "Do you remember where you are?"

Charlie struggled to push back the cobwebs in her mind, "Underground? I think...?"

He nodded reassuringly, "Well, you're not wrong." He sighed, glancing at something beyond her line of sight, "Do you remember…" Again he paused, licking his lips and looking very uneasy, "waking up earlier?"

"No…w-what happened?"

"You don't remember," Dr. Banner began tentatively, "how you got here?"

Charlie glanced around at the machines again. Her body suddenly felt lighter, and the world was moving steadily back into focus. She thought hard, but still nothing came, "No…I…ah…" She shook her head, "I can't remember anything…"

Again, Dr. Banner looked up at a large mirror that covered the wall on the other side of her feet. He nodded slowly, turning back to her, "Charlie, I need you to try and focus." He leaned closer, his voice softening, "What's the last thing you do remember?"

"I…um…" Charlie faltered, "I remember… They…they put me in a room and told me not to come out…"

"Who did?" Banner gently pushed her.

"The…agents." Charlie starred at the ceiling, "One was a woman with red hair…"

"That's really good, Charlie…" Banner murmured.

"And…m-my dad came to see me…" She uttered quietly, turning as Dr. Banner's face crumbled. He swallowed visibly, glancing at the mirror as he pushed his glasses up and ran his hand over his face. "He took a break from work…He never does that… And he said…he said…" Charlie trailed off, starring into nothing, "Where's my dad?"

"Charlie…" Dr. Banner breathed, but he could not bring himself to continue. He looked at the mirror expectantly, but nothing changed.

Charlie felt a sudden stab of panic in her abdomen. He heart began to race, causing the monitor to beep more frequently. "Where's my dad?" She repeated, trying to push herself up on her palms.

Banner reached out to stop her, "Charlie…"

"Where is he?" She demanded.

"Charlie, I need you to calm down…"

"He's okay, right?" Charlie breathing quickened as Dr. Banner forced her to lie back down.

"No." He told her somberly, "No, he's not okay…Charlie…" He took a deep breath, "Your father…He's…I'm afraid…Charlie, he's gone."

"Gone?" He voice cracked, tears streaming from her eyes, "Gone?"

"I'm so sorry…" He covered her hand with his, "If there's anything…"

Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as her body was rocked by sobs. "Oh God!" she wept, "No! No!" She raised her hands to shield her face, jerking away from his touch, too numb to feel the needles.

All Charlie could think of was what he said to her the last time they had spoken; of the promise he had made. The promise of how things would get better for them, of how they could be a family again, and how she had not believed him. Instantly, guilt wrapped its ugly claws into her gut. Now, she would never get a chance to see. Now, he could never prove her wrong. Now, things would never get better.

* * *

Bruce pressed his thumb to the biometric lock and stepped into the observation room, feeling drained. He ran his fingers through his hair as he leaned with his back against the two-way mirror, his shoulders hunching forward like they were supporting a tremendous weight. He let out the breath he had been holding as he covered his eyes with his palm. "God…" He hissed, his legs folding as he slid to the ground, resting his head against the wall.

Tony moved to stand beside him, looking through the window at Charlie, once again unconscious in her hospital bed. He rested his knuckles against his mouth; his eyes were moister than he would ever admit. "You didn't have to do that, man. Notification of next of kin was Fury's job, not yours."

"She disserved to hear it from someone who knew her father, Tony. Someone who worked with him… who cares that he's gone." Bruce said softly, "All Fury cares about is the bottom line."

Tony glanced down at him, "You know I'm not Fury's biggest fan, but I think your might be selling the man a bit short there, Doctor."

Banner didn't reply, so Tony returned his attention back to the renovated interrogation chamber, now a hospital room. That had been the compromise. The interrogation room was secure, with measures that kept Charlie in and all unwanted others out. It was isolated from the main complex; several floors below the lab area, but not as deep as Containment. And most importantly, it now looked like a medical facility, with the exception of the two-way mirror. A sink and counter area for lab work ran along the right-hand wall, opposite the hospital bed and the monitors. Tony did not want to think about why S.H.I.E.L.D. needed running water in their interrogation rooms, along with linoleum floors that slanted towards the small drain in the center.

His suspicions ran to the darker side of intelligence gathering.

Charlie lay unnaturally still on the cot, her cheeks flushed and stained from crying. "What did you give her this time?" Tony muttered.

Bruce sighed heavily, "Just a light sedative. It'll wear off in a couple of hours…"

The door opposite them slid open with a hiss. "You did a good thing tonight, Doctor." Fury stated vehemently as he stepped into the small room, the lock clicking automatically behind him. His coat sweeping above his ankles, he strode to stand beside Stark at the window. He observed Charlie's sleeping form with seemingly cold interference, "I'm very impressed."

"To what 'good thing' are you referring, Director?" Bruce snapped, rising rapidly to his feet, "When I did your job and told her that her father is dead? Or, is it when I drugged her for the tenth time on your order?"

"I know it's harsh, Doctor." The Director answered, not taking his eye off the girl, "But, until we know what she's capable of, we need to minimize the threat by any means necessary."

Bruce scowled. "I have kept that poor girl in a chemically induced coma for the last six days!" He spat at Fury, "But, it was medically necessary then! Her vitals are stable now! There is no medical reason to keep her sedated! I will not, and I mean _will not_, dope her every time she gets upset, just so you can 'minimize the threat'!" He took a deep breath, focusing on slowing his increasing pulse, forcing himself to calm down, "Eventually, _Director_, we will have to face the problem!"

"Then, what do you suggest, Dr. Banner?" Director Fury turned to look at him for the first time, crossing his arms.

Bruce hesitated, biting at his fingernails as he glared at Fury. "We tell her nothing." He began quietly, "We tell her that she was exposed to something hazardous, but we don't say anything about what happened in the med-wing. We…" He sighed, "We don't want to scare her. We keep her calm…make her believe that everything is okay."

"Ignorance is bliss?" Fury ruminated, "Is that it doctor?"

"It's not perfect." Bruce admitted sharply, "But, it's better than roofie-ing a sixteen year old girl."

Fury considered him, looking him up and down with deliberate scrutiny, "And what if she loses it, again? She could hurt a lot of people… Are you willing to risk that?"

"All due respect, _sir_," Bruce barked, "But, if you were really so worried about everybody's safety, you wouldn't have put the Hulk 50 stories underground. There have already been two close calls…Keep this up, and I guarantee a third."

"That sounded an awful lot like a threat, Dr. Banner…"

"Not a threat." Banner assured the Director, "Just an intuitive observation."

Fury stared at him in stunned silence. "All right, Doctor." He began coolly, "I will leave this in your capable hands. But, just know, that if anything happens to any of my agents, I will hold you personally responsible."

"I can live with that." Banner retorted.

Fury nodded, a bitter smirk spreading across his face. "Good night, gentlemen." He expressed politely as he turned in his heels and strutted out of the room.

During Fury's interruption, Tony had not turned away from the window, keeping his brown eyes locked on the girl. "You know," He began lightly, "I think I was the one selling Fury short…" He turned to look at Bruce, a disgusted grin on his face, "About how big a dick the guy can be."

Bruce nodded glumly, taking his place beside him, "There is no way that this is going to end well."

"No." Tony shook his head, "None at all. We're screwed."

* * *

Charlie was afraid to open her eyes, terrified of what she would find on the other side. She could still hear Dr. Banner's words echoing around her skull, grave and gentle,_ "Your father…He's…I'm afraid…Charlie, he's gone." _It had to be a nightmare; a horrendous dream. That was the only tolerable explanation. She had had a bad dream brought on by being locked underground for three days straight. She would open her eyes and be stuck back in that tiny apartment, laying on the couch and rotting her mind with reality T.V. Her father would be down in the lab alongside Banner, Selvig, and Stark, working, just like he always was. But, when Charlie opened her eyes, she was still lying in the hospital bed, fastened to the beeping machines that surrounded her.

"Oh…no." She muttered inaudibly. Her voice seemed to have forgotten how to work as fresh tears spilled silently down her cheeks. It was true. He was gone. She would never see him again. She was all alone now.

That realization was like a blade being forced through her sternum, it hurt so badly; like someone shoved in a knife and twisted. Charlie had no one. No family. Nowhere to go.

A chillingly familiar weight settled over her chest; the same dark anvil that had crippled her four years ago as she had watched her mother wither away into nothing. It was paralyzing, attached to a chain that bound her arms and legs unbearably tight, squeezing the life out of her. Charlie knew it immediately, and knew that she was in trouble. It would sink her; pull her down into despair and drown her with it. "No." She told herself quietly, pushing back with all her might, "Charlie, get up! Get up now!"

She forced herself onto her palms and pushed, struggling to sitting up as the weight seemed to triple. She took a deep breath as she righted herself, willing the heaviness back and pushing up with all her might. She felt the needles and tape pinching at her skin and groaned, violently ripping them out and letting them clamber to the floor. The electrodes pulled at her chest and hairline painfully. She grunted in frustration, tearing them off and leaving raw patches in their place. Last to go was the finger cuff. She tossed it at the beeping monitor with such force that it chipped the screen. Instantly, it flat-lined, releasing a high pitched wail.

"Stop!" Charlie demanded, leaning over and slamming the off switch with the heel of her hand. The monitor skidded a few feet before tumbling over, silent. She took a series of shallow breaths through her nose as she swung her legs over the edge, facing the wall. Again the weight increased, tenfold. Charlie wanted nothing more than to lie back down, curl into a ball and sob, but that could not be allowed. If she fell down that hole, she knew she might not ever climb back out.

"Stand up!" She ordered herself, "Stand up Charlie! Keep moving! Just—just keep moving!" She pushed back with all her might, willing the weight of the air away, as she pushed herself from the cot.

But, her feet did not hit the ground.

Charlie suddenly felt very tall. She looked around her with confusion, before glance down and noticed her feet levitating nearly a foot off the flooring, toes pointed downward. "Wha—?" She gasped loudly, and instantaneously she dropped. Her feet connected with the linoleum, and she stumbled into the wall.

She heard the hiss of an automatic door sliding open. "Charlie!" Dr. Banner came rushing over to her, "What are you doing? You need to get back in bed…"

"Did you—did you see?" Charlie stuttered as he tried to guide her back to the bed, but she pushed away from him.

"See what?" Dr. Banner asked, concerned, still trying to usher her back to the cot.

"I—I was…" Charlie began, but stopped at the look on Dr. Banner's face. He looked genuinely frightened. She swallowed, reminding herself that people cannot float. He would think she had lost her mind.

Maybe she had.

"Nothing." Charlie mumbled, "I—nothing."

Banner studied her closely. "Charlie," He said soothingly, "You really need to lie back down."

"No, I—I don't want to." She protested, "I don't want to go back to sleep."

"Oh, okay…" Banner said hurriedly, "You don't have to. I'm not going to give you any more sedatives, I promise." Charlie glared at him, distrustfully. He held up his hands and took a deep breath, "Charlie, you need to lie back down. You were in a serious accident and were very badly injured."

"What?" Charlie exclaimed, stunned. She looked down at herself in the hospital gown, checking to make sure all her parts were still there. She still had ten fingers, ten toes, and everything seemed to be working properly. "But," Charlie looked back up at him, "I don't feel any pain or anything…I feel fine. Better than fine, actually." She shifted her weight, taking notice of the whole room for the first time, "I feel—great."

"I'm happy to hear that," Banner said with a small smile, gesturing for her to come closer. "But, I'd really like to see for myself…"

Charlie hesitated, but conceded, letting Banner guide her back to the bed. She sat on the edge, but refused to lie down. He relented, allowing her to stay upright as he began his examination. He placed his hands against her throat, pressing against her lymph nodes firmly. "No pain at all?" He asked after a moment.

"None." Charlie said quietly, becoming more and more uncomfortable with Dr. Banner's prodding. She glanced down at the bruises on her arms that had been left by the I.V. "Where are all the marks?"

"Pardon?" Dr. Banner removed his hands.

"If I was in such a bad accident," Charlie questioned carefully, "Then, where are all the cuts and bandages and stuff?" A stab of panic hit her, "How long was I out?"

Banner sighed, "We've kept you in a medically induced coma for six days. But, it wasn't that kind of accident Charlie."

"I don't understand." Charlie said slowly, "What other kind of accident is there?"

He hesitated, laying his hand gently over hers. "Charlie…The night that your father… died… you found your way into the lab, somehow. The containment protocols around the object we were studying had been breached, and you were… exposed to high levels of energy."

"What..?" Charlie faltered, fear flashing across her face, "Y-you mean like…radiation poisoning?"

Banner nodded, "Something very similar, yes." He could feel her hand shaking under his, "But, so far, everything looks okay. You're okay."

At the mention of radiation, all Charlie could think of was her mother in that long, last year. Endless chemotherapy sessions, and radiation treatments, followed by nights a vomiting up medication and everything else along with it. Her hair falling out in lumps. Her body wasting away until all that was left was skin and bone. Charlie firmly believed that it had been the radiation that killed her, not the cancer. Frankly, the brain tumor would have been less painful.

"So far?" Charlie swallowed the fear rising in her throat, "You…you don't know what it's going to do to me, do you? That's why I'm in here, and not at a real hospital?"

"We'll figure it out." Banner told her confidently.

"If I don't die first, you mean."

"No!" Banner said strongly, "You're not going to die. I'm not going to let you." He squeezed her hand tenderly, "You'll be okay, Charlie. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." Charlie muttered, glancing down at her bare feet next to Banner's pant legs, "Shouldn't you be in a radiation suit or something?"

He smiled sadly, "I'm…ah…immune."

"How's that possible?"

"It's a long story…" Banner took a step back, moving towards the counter, "I'll tell it to you sometime."

"So…" Charlie braced herself for the answer to her question, "What now?"

"Now," Dr. Banner pulled a sterile needle from a drawer and unwrapped it, "I need to take some blood samples." Moving closer, he tied a tourniquet tightly around her arm and began feeling for a vein.

"That's not what I meant…" Charlie trailed off, staring at the needle in his hand. "That's…um…big."

"Sorry," Dr. Banner grinned bashfully at her, "And, I know what you meant. You're going to have to stay in here for now, Charlie. Just until we know that everything's good, okay? You're going to feel a pinch."

Charlie winced as the needle pierced her skin, "Ouch! Pinch my ass."

Banner tried to hide his chuckle. "In the mean time," He began as he filled the containers full of blood, "Is there anything I can do? Anything you need?"

"Yeah…" She breathed, glaring down at the hospital shirt in embarrassment, "Pants."

He failed to hide his laugh this time, "See what I can do."

* * *

Tony watched Bruce race back into the room from behind the mirror, wincing as Charlie tumbled out of bed and into the wall. He was beyond exhausted; the last week had been a never ending rollercoaster ride, and Stark wanted nothing more than to climb off. Bruce had refused to leave the girl's side, and Tony refused to let Bruce do this alone. The good doctor had done so much for her already, putting everything on the line for a complete stranger.

The man was selfless to a fault. It made Tony feel increasingly petty.

He sighed heavily and rubbed his tired eyes, "Will this nightmare ever end?" He heard the door hiss open behind him and turned, expecting Fury, but instead coming face to face with the towering form of Steve Rogers. "Captain." He greeted.

"Mr. Stark." Steve nodded, strolling to stand beside him at the window, hands folded behind his back. Tony watched him as he peered inside, his jaw set glaringly tight. "So," He began stiffly, "That's her?"

"Yep." Tony turned away from the Captain and watched as Bruce sat her back down on the hospital bed, "HYDRA's newest orphan."

"Hmm." Tony watched as Steve stood even straighter, if that was possible. He looked very uneasy, his blue eyes fixed on Charlie shaking under Bruce's touch.

"What did Fury tell you?" Tony wondered.

Steve did not turn to look at him, "He showed me the security footage."

"Ah-hah..?" Tony raised his eyebrows expectantly, "And?"

"And?"

Stark frowned, irritated now, "What's your take?"

Steve did not answered immediately. He glanced down at the floor, guilt flashing in his eyes, "I agree with Fury."

"What?" Tony bellowed.

"She's unpredictable, Tony." Steve answered almost meekly, "That makes her a danger to everyone, including herself."

"Oh! Come on, Rogers!" Stark scoffed cynically, "She's a teenager, not a terrorist!"

Steve turned to face him. "I don't like it anymore than you do!" He retorted avidly, "But, that doesn't change the fact!"

"You really don't get it, do you?" Tony threw his hands up, "All the politics that are at play here! It's a Goddamn house of cards and that girl is teetering on the edge! This whole mess has everyone running around with the heads chopped off!"

"What are you getting at, Stark?" Steve pushed.

"It's my—S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fault!" He corrected quickly, "They brought her here! They are just as at fault as anyone else! She hasn't done anything to warrant this kind of treatment! You know Fury wanted her locked in a containment cell? She's a sick kid, not a hardened criminal!" Tony stopped and took a deep breath, trying to calm down, and failing miserably, "Fury is out for blood! This whole agency is going crazy! And, if we're not careful, Charlie is going to end up in the crossfire!"

"Tony…I—"

"There is a line here, Steve!" Tony cried, "Are you really willing to cross it?"

"What exactly is it you want from me, Tony?" Captain Rogers snapped.

"I want you to pick a side!" Stark shouted, "Because, believe me, the time is coming when you are going to have to! And I pray to God it's the right one, _Captain America_, because that girl's life is in the balance!"

Steve stared at Tony, dumbstruck.

"So," The armored Avenger pressed, "What's it going to be?"

* * *

**Chapter 8 done! I hope you enjoyed it :)**

**Chapter 9 will be up as soon as it's done... I'm not sure how long the chapter is going to be yet, but it will include every Avenger I've introduced so far! So stay tuned! **

**Thanks all! I love you, and I want to hear your feedback! **

**As for Thor, for those of you have asked about him, I will bring him in eventually! But, most likely that won't be until Part Three. So, please have patience. **


	10. Chapter 9

**Hi there! This story takes place in the Marvel Cinematic Universe of_The Avengers_, after_Iron Man 3_, so beware,**SPOILERS! ****

**I own nothing.**

**However, there is one major difference: in this story,Stark DID NOT have his arch reactor removed.I just like him having it and I need it for later plot points.**

**Rated T for Language.**

**Reviews are much loved!**

* * *

**Part Two:**** Radioactive **

**Chapter 9**

Day 2:

Charlie sat cross-legged on the hospital bed, facing the mirror, but staring down at her hands blankly. Dr. Banner had brought her a pair of blue scrub pants and a white tank top to wear instead of the hospital gown, but she still felt completely and utterly exposed. The last 24 hours had been filled with countless emotional ups and downs. _Mostly downs, actually, _Charlie thought heavily. Her father was dead. She was an orphan. She had been exposed to some sort of radiation and was locked in quarantine. And, worst of all, Dr. Banner had informed her that her father had been cremated and his ashes disposed of as bio-hazardous waste. There was nothing left for a funeral. She could not even say goodbye to him.

_All downs_, Charlie reconsidered bleakly.

"How are you feeling Charlie?" Dr. Banner inquired kindly as he came through the door caring a cafeteria tray laden with breakfast. He placed it gingerly on the bed in front of her, but Charlie just stared at the scrambled eggs numbly. He sighed, turning and taking a seat in front of the microscope on the counter, "Yeah, that's how I'd feel, too."

Charlie continued to stare at the tray for several minutes as Dr. Banner began working on her most recent blood samples. She could not remember the last time she had eaten and, honestly, Charlie had did not want to. She was not hungry in the least. Even the mundane things in life held no meaning. Nothing did. She wondered if they ever would again as the little devil on her shoulder whispered for her to just give in and give up.

"Charlie?" She turned to look at Dr. Banner, who had turned around on his stool, "Eat."

She just blinked at him, turning back to the tray and continuing to contemplate the meaning of food in this new world she was in, and whether or not it was really all that necessary. She heard the stool scrape against the floor as he stood. Suddenly, Charlie became aware of Dr. Banner's presence next to her. She straightened up instantly, the hair on her neck standing on end as she turned to look up at him.

He held his glasses in his fist, resting against his chin, as he considered her with his dark brown eyes. "Your blood sugar is too low." He told her sternly as he reached over her and lifted the glass of orange juice, holding it in front of her, "At least drink this. You'll feel better."

"I doubt that." Charlie muttered, not looking at the glass.

"Charlie…" Banner said testily, his mouth twisted in a frown and an edge to his voice that told her that he was very serious, "Drink."

She relented, reaching out to grasp the cup, but the instant she grabbed onto it, the glass shattered. Charlie gasped, withdrawing her hand quickly, startled as orange juice and glass shards spilled across the sheets. "Uh…It's okay," Dr. Banner hurriedly assured her, grabbing onto her and swiftly guiding her off the bed and away from the glass, "It's alright. Accidents happen."

"I—I barely touched it!" Charlie squeaked.

"I know." He told her, moving to clean up the broken glass. He glanced at the mirror, a worried expression on his face, "I know…"

* * *

Day 7:

"There's something that's been bothering me…" Charlie began faintly, sitting on the linoleum with the last Harry Potter book cradled in her lap; she had reread the entire series, for the third time, in the last week, barely comprehending any of it.

"What's that?" Dr. Banner asked quietly, hunched over his work.

Charlie shut the book with a snap, "Why is there a two-way mirror in here?"

Banner immediately stopped what he was doing and turned to look at her. "Well…um… Hmm, that's a really good question…" He said nervously, "Why…ah…Why do you say it's a two-way mirror?"

"Why else would a mirror be that size?" Charlie shrugged coyly, "Besides, it looks just like the one from the interrogation room Agent Barton put me in."

"That's…very observant, Charlie." Banner stated, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. He quickly added with a frown, "When did Barton put you in an integration room?"

"When they first brought me here." Charlie answered timidly, standing and glancing uncertainly at the mirror, "I spent the night there."

"That's…ah…_interesting_." Dr. Banner said slowly, a clear note of anger in his voice.

"It's not a big deal," Charlie added quickly, turning away from the doctor and facing the mirror full on for the first time. She had been avoiding it for the last six days, trying not to look at it in attempt to forget it was there. "I keep seeing you look at it," Charlie continued, "Like you're looking at someone over there… I am right, aren't I? It's one-way glass?"

"Yeah." Banner told her softly, "Your right. This room was not meant to be a quarantine chamber. We converted to a medical facility after the medical wing was damaged."

"Guess that explains the camera, too." She mumbled, glancing up at the round eye mounted in the corner, above Dr. Banner's head, "So…ah, who's on the other side?"

"Right now?" He gave her a sympathetic smile, "No one. It's just us here."

"Hmm…okay." She hummed uncomfortably, "But, then, who are you always looking at?"

Banner spun back around in his seat, returning to his work, "Tony. Usually."

Charlie's eyes widened in surprise, "Tony Stark?"

He chuckled softly at the shock in her voice, "I take it you've heard of him?"

"Well, yeah…" Charlie watched Dr. Banner sitting at the counter, shuffling through the latest lab results, "He kind of saved New York City. With the rest of the Avengers, I mean." A cheerless smile touched her lips as she thought back, "That was a really weird day…"

"Tell me about it." Banner snorted.

"You know," Charlie began, "My dad actually walked home that night? Through all of the craziness? He walked all the way from Cambridge, across the bridge and everything, just to make sure I was okay."

The Doctor was watching her closely, again. "No," He muttered, "I didn't know that. Was it bad in Boston?"

Charlie nodded glumly, "When the attack started in New York, everybody started to panic. A lot of people started looting, going crazy, thinking the world was over and everything. The phone lines all jammed up and most of the cops went home. Wasn't exactly the greatest night to be alone." She sighed, "It wasn't until the next day, when everybody realized what the Avengers had done, that things calmed down at all."

"Did your dad…" Banner swallowed, "Did he leave you alone often?"

Charlie shrugged, avoiding eye contact, "His work was important to him…"

She turned back to the mirror, no longer wanting to discuss the subject. Her reflection stared back at her solemnly, appearing shrunken and frail. Her short hair was greasy. Her skin had lost its healthy glow with dark circles under her eyes. She felt very self conscious all of a sudden, knowing that people, namely Tony Stark, had been watching her. She tried to tidy her pixie cut. "Urgh…" She groaned, "I look like shit."

"You look great." He told her, to which she snorted loudly. Banner shook his head, "You nearly died, Charlie. I think that's a pretty good excuse…"

Charlie ignored him, glancing down at her cotton tank top and examining every detail from her neckline up. Frowning, she rubbed her hand across her throat reflexively, feeling like there was something different, but unable to place it.

Banner watched her with baited breath. She sighed again, rubbing at her eyes, when she unexpectedly lunged forward, propping her hand on the mirror and practically shouting, "What the hell?"

He was on his feet instantly, "What? What's wrong?"

"My—My eyes!" Charlie cried, panicking as Dr. Banner placed his hands under her jaw and tilted her head to the light, "They've changed color!"

Banner studied her pale blue eyes closely; the same color that they've always been, or so he had thought. "What do you mean?"

"The brown spots!" She howled, "Around my pupils! They weren't there before!"

Sure enough, Charlie had a ring of rich bullion in each iris; their sky blue was flecked with an almost metallic gold. "They weren't like this before the incident?"

"No!" Charlie squealed, "W—what does that mean?"

"Nothing." Dr. Banner put his hands on her shoulders reassuringly, "It means nothing. But, I'm going to run a new DNA panel, just in case…"

* * *

Day 10:

Clint Barton stood on the other side of the mirror, leaning with his shoulder against the wall as he watched Charlie recline on the bed with a new novel propped in front of her. A small pile of already read books had formed at the foot of the hospital bed; some of them he recognized and some of then he did not. The one she was reading now had a bird on the front with an arrow through its beak, which had captured his curiosity momentarily. Unlike the others in the heap, Charlie seemed to be totally immersed in this one, her foot bouncing in a steady rhythm off the edge of the bed. A sad smile curled across his face; she still could not keep still.

It was late. Dr. Banner and Stark had already left for the night after spending the day going through blood panels, EKGs and EEGs. He felt odd watching her like this, with no one else around, and with her completely unaware of his presence. It was a little inappropriate, actually. Had it been anyone else down here, it could easily be misconstrued as creepy. _No Barton, you dummy, _he told himself resolutely, _It's unquestionably creepy and very inappropriate. _

But, he had felt compelled to see for himself what everyone was fighting about. And he understood it now.

He watched as Charlie spun around, laying on her stomach with the book on a pillow, her feet pointed in the air like a little girl. Guilt coiled up inside him and he felt abruptly sick to his stomach. "God." He swore aloud, looking down at his feet with shame.

"Clint?" Natasha hummed from the door, moving silently to stand beside him.

Barton glanced sideways at her, "They told me she would be safe here…"

"Clint," She warned him, "You know better than to let yourself down that road…"

"I was ordered to bring her it, Natasha!" He snapped hurriedly, "To put her in _protective_ custody! If we had just left her where we found—"

"And I was in charge of security for this entire project!" She retorted in hushed tones, "Bad things happen, Clint. Look at what happened in Budapest! New York! Cairo! You can't control everything, so don't blame yourself!"

He took a deep breath, running his hand over his face. "This is a hundred times worse than Cairo, Natasha! We did not…do_ this_," He gestured to the quarantine chamber, "To an innocent kid in Cairo!" He turned to look at her, his jaw clenched, "Both Stark and Banner agree that whatever caused this is not communicable, and in ten days, all she's done is break a glass! I hardly think that's cause for keeping her locked up like this. So why doesn't Fury let her out?"

"Because of what happened in the med-wing!" Natasha asserted.

"We don't know what happened in the med-wing! It could have been—"

"Exactly! Clint," Natasha placed her hands on his shoulders, "_We don't know_."

Barton shook his head, pulling away from her and sighing heavily, "Something just feels _wrong_ about this, Natasha."

She swallowed, "I know."

* * *

Day 12:

Charlie had given up on reading. She had more than had her fill, and they seemed opposed to bringing her anything above the young-adult reading level. She was not sure how late in the day it was, but after what seemed like hours of just starring at the wall, Dr. Banner had stopped his work long enough to convince her to doddle on a pad of paper instead. She had then spent a substantial amount of time just staring at the yellow parchment, before finally touching the pen to it. She continued scratching on the pad with her leg bouncing off the side of the cot, filling up page after page, until Dr. Banner had returned (she had not even realized that he had left) with her dinner tray.

Charlie blinked in surprise as he set the plate of chicken and vegetables in front of her. She wrinkled her nose and continued to scribble on the paper, ignoring the food. Banner sighed, "Charlie, if you don't start eating more, I'm going to have to put the I.V. back in."

Charlie paused to look up at him, setting the pad down and stabbing a piece of broccoli with her fork. She glared at him as she stuffed it in her mouth, before picking the pad back up and continuing as if she had not been interrupted. Banner studied her for a second, watching as she swallowed. She did not returned to her plate, just continued writing hurriedly across the page. He shrugged his shoulders, grasping the notebook and pulling it out of her hands. "Hey!" Charlie yelped, grabbing for the pad.

"Eat." Banner ordered sternly, "You can have it back when you're done."

"I'm not hungry!" Charlie seethed, making another grab at it as he pulled it further out of her reach, "I need to finish it, before it slips!"

"Finish what..?" Banner turned the notepad over, his mouth dropping open. He glanced at her over his glasses, an amused smile slowly creeping across his lips, "Charlie…what..?" He flipped through the pages, each completely filled with lines of computer code. He chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief, "What is this?"

Charlie sighed, "It's a mixing platform. Now, can I have it back?"

"No." Banner said quickly, "Finish your vegetables."

She scowled, picking the tray up and dropping it in her lap. Tetchily cutting up her chicken, she ate the plate while silently cursing Dr. Banner in her head. The food was dry and tasteless, just like it always was. Not an ounce of salt on the plate.

Dr. Banner continued to pore over her untidy scrawl, "Mixing platform for what, exactly?"

Charlie swallowed the parched chicken she had been chewing, "Music. I figure, I ought to upgrade the program for a new system, considering S.H.I.E.L.D. confiscated my laptop." She turned and glared at the mirror, saying more loudly, "And probably fried the motherboard with all that _Stark_-ware they put on it!"

He sat down on the foot of the bed, folding his arms across his chest and grinning at her, "He's not over there, Charlie."

Charlie shrugged, taking another mouthful, "Worth a shot."

"This is very impressive." He flipped to the last page.

She snorted, "Tell my teachers that, will you. They all think I'm stupid."

"Why would they think that?" Banner frowned.

"Everybody thinks so. I'm the 'problem child'. That's why they sent me to the school shrink and tried to make me take those pills." Charlie shrugged again, looking down at her plate, "It's not that I don't like school…But, the teachers take one look at my record and just give up. So, why shouldn't I?"

"What do you mean?" Dr. Banner turned to face her, "What pills?"

"Ritalin." She pushed the vegetables around with her fork, "They told my dad I've got A.D.H.D. and…something else. I don't remember what."

Banner furrowed his brow, "I didn't see anything in your medical records about that."

"I never went to an actual doctor." She replied, "My dad never took me. I think he thought it was bullshit."

Banner nodded slowly, "Charlie, I want to do one more test today, before I go for the night."

Charlie dropped her fork and glared at him crossly, "You try and push that poison down my throat, Doctor… You and I are going to have a problem."

"No, Charlie," He assured her with a crooked smile, "It's not that kind of test."

* * *

Day 13:

"Take a look at this." Bruce practically jogged into the Level 7 cafeteria, a piece of paper clutched in his hand. He held it out to Tony as he sat across from him, "A.D.H.D. my ass."

Tony took the sheet smoothly, sipping on his espresso. It was early morning, around four or so. He glanced down the page. "These are her results?" He asked, amazed, "That's an indictment of the American education system if I ever saw one."

"I checked her score twice. She has an I.Q. of 182." Bruce laughed, shaking his head, astounded, "Genius level intelligence, and they're failing her."

"'No child left behind.'" Tony grinned, "Things just got a whole lot more interesting."

* * *

Day 19:

Tony Stark stood shoulder to shoulder with Steve Rogers, watching as Charlie sat on the linoleum floor, picking gingerly at the lunch tray in front of her. She was eating again without having to be told to, sort of, and that was an improvement. But, she had lost a lot of weight; about five pounds in the last two weeks, and did not look healthy in the least. "Still look like a threat to you, Captain?" Tony asked callously, turning his head to look at Rogers.

"Let it go, Tony." Steve replied sullenly, without glancing at him.

Tony opened his mouth, intent on not letting it go, when Bruce entered, caring a file brimming with lab results and a steaming cup of fresh coffee. He looked even more tired today than usual, so Tony let the argument drop. "What's up, Doc?"

"Ha-ha. Very funny." Bruce yawned, "I've never heard that one before."

Steve snapped his fingers and grinned excitedly, "Bugs Bunny, right?"

Both Bruce and Tony sniggered. "No." Tony replied, shrugging his shoulders and straightening his face, "Never heard of him."

Steve rolled his eyes, turning back to the mirror in irritation, as Tony and Bruce began to discuss things he did not understand. He watched as Charlie threw down her fork, and then continued to stare at the tray gloomily, before picking up her metal cup. She inspected it closely, like she was trying to decide what to do with it. He felt a dull ache in his chest as he looked at her, starting to wonder if Stark was right about all this.

Charlie dumped the liquid out on the tray and then pushed it aside with her foot, placing the cup mouth down on the floor in front of her. Steve tilted his head in confusion, "What's she doing?"

Instantly, the other men stopped talking and joined Steve at the window, watching her curiously. "I don't know." Bruce muttered, pushing up his glasses.

Charlie took a deep breath and exhaled. She clapped her hands twice, then tapped the bottom of the cup three times like it was a drum, before clapping again, lifting it and sliding it over about six inches, and then clapping a fourth time. She flipped the cup, covering its opening with her palm and tapping its bottom against the floor. She tossed the cup to her other hand, slamming her palm to the linoleum before crashing the cup down beside it. She repeated this in rapid succession until a steady drum beat formed. The men watched her transfixed, until she suddenly stopped.

Charlie stared at the cup for a good sixty seconds. Tony watched her lips moving silently, with a mix of admiration and inquisitiveness. It took him a few seconds to realize what she that she was counting out beats in her head. "Impressive…" He muttered, as she promptly began to play again. But, this time the beat was different, and the hand motions were all flipped around. She took another deep breath and the color drain from his face, "Is she going to do what I think she's going to?"

"Oh God." Bruce gasped, turning to run into the room and stop her before history repeated itself, but he was not quick enough. Charlie opened her mouth and began to sing.

Slowly, the men unclenched, staring at her in awe as her angelic voice filled the air with vivid, full tones.

"_I'm waking up to ash and dust__…__I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust…I'm breathing in the chemicals…"_ She took a deep breath and exhaled, _"I'm breaking in, shaping up, then checking out on the prison bus__…__This is it, the apocalypse__…__Whoa…" _

"I'll be damned…" Bruce breathed, removing his glasses.

_"I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones__…__Enough to make my systems blow…Welcome to the new age, to the new age__…__Welcome to the new age, to the new age__…"_Charlie began to sway, not looking at her hands bouncing the cup around speedily, _"__Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive__…__Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive…"_

"I thought you said—" Steve began, spellbound by the sound coming from her lips.

Tony slapped him on the back, "Shut up, Rogers…" He closed his eyes and listened, a smile spreading across his face, "I love this song."

_"__I raise my flags, don my clothes__…__It's a revolution, I suppose__…__We're painted red to fit right in__…__Whoa…" _Charlie closed her eyes, too, belting out the notes, _"I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones…Enough to make my systems blow__…__Welcome to the new age, to the new age__…__Welcome to the new age, to the new age__…__Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive__…__Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive…"_

Bruce stepped into the hospital room, the door opening and shutting with a hiss. Instantly, Charlie stopped. She opened her eyes and looked up at him standing in the doorway, her cheeks flushing scarlet. "Well, don't stop on my account." He told her gently, his smile spreading from ear to ear. Charlie stared at him for a moment, tentatively placing the cup right-side up on the floor and leaving it.

Bruce just looked at her expectantly and Charlie sighed, embarrassed. _"All systems go…The sun hasn't died__…__Deep in my bones…Straight from inside…"_ She continued softly, glancing anxiously at the mirror, _"I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones__…__Enough to make my systems blow__…__Welcome to the new age, to the new age__...__Welcome to the new age, to the new age__…__Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive…Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive… Radioactive…"_

"That was really wonderful, Charlie." Bruce told her sweetly.

"Thanks…" Charlie rubbed the back of her neck nervously, "I, ah… I didn't think anybody was watching, though…"

"Did you write that?" He asked, hand resting on his mouth.

Charlie snorted, "Ah, nooo… No, I…um…just thought it was… _appropriate_, is all."

Bruce nodded with a self-conscious grin, "Okay, what about the thing with the cup? Where did you learn to do that?"

Charlie stared at him, stunned, "Have you been living under a rock?" Bruce raised his eyebrows, and she burst out laughing, "Yeah, I guess you have, haven't you?" She shrugged, still giggling, "The song is called 'Radioactive' by a band called Imagine Dragons, and the 'thing with the cup' is originally from a movie called _Pitch Perfect_. It's really funny… Anyway, I learned how to do it from a video on the internet. A bunch of my friends and I used to hang out play around with it, but I'm always trying to put my own twist on things."

It was the first time any of them had heard her laugh. If possible, it was more charming than her singing. Like wind chimes.

On the other side of the mirror, Tony squeezed Steve's shoulder. "Beautiful." He said, smiling at Charlie and Bruce, "Absolutely beautiful." He turned his head to look at Rogers and their eyes locked. "Like a canary in a cage," Tony's smile disappeared as his face darkened dangerously, "At the bottom of a mine shaft."

He slapped the Captain on the back once more for good measure, and strode out of the room, leaving Rogers visibly unsettled.

* * *

Day 21:

Charlie closed the copy of _Mockingjay _she had just finished for the fourth time, and tossed it on to the pile with the others, sighing ruefully. She rubbed her hands over her eyes and sat up, throwing her legs over the edge of the hospital bed and standing. She stretched her arms out, feeling her muscles tighten and relax, her spin popping back into place. Sliding to the ground, she straightened her legs out in front of her and bent forward, pressing down on her toes and holding. After a moment, she shift into a jazz split, pressing her face flat against her leg and stayed that way for thirty seconds before switching to the other. She shifted again, turning and grabbing the rail of the hospital bed, bringing her knees up to her chest before rolling forward and putting all her weight on her pointed toes.

It was strange, but she barely felt any resistance from her body. She could not remember ever being able to do these stretches with such ease. Her ballet instructor, Mrs. Boskovich, would probably swat at her with that gnarled, rattan cane of hers for Charlie's terrible form, but her stamina had never been so high. She straitened back up and, finding a spot on the wall, lifted her foot above her head. She pressed her weight against her leg, pushing against the panel in a straddle stretch, all the tension melting from her body.

Doubt had once again begun to trickle into her thoughts. The endless progression of needles and scans, melded with the lack of any way to tell how much time had passed, had left her feeling disheartened and desperate. Every time Dr. Banner walked out the door, Charlie felt her future turn even more bleak. He would tell her nothing, good or bad, and asked her to be patient for just a bit longer. But, Charlie was quickly running out of tolerance.

She was scared. She wanted answers. She wanted out. And, she was starting to think that was never going to happen while she was still alive. Her blood ran cold at the thought and she switched legs, trying to focus on her stretching.

She heard a soft thud from the other side of the mirror and the hair on the back of her arms stood on end. Charlie instantly pulled away from the wall and turned towards the mirror, "Hello..? Is someone there?"

There was a pause and then feedback hissed from the speaker above the door. "Yes." A man's voice came through apprehensively, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

Charlie glanced at the speaker, surprised, before turning to stare at the mirror. It was the first time that someone, other the Dr. Banner, had spoken to her since before the incident. "You—you didn't." She replied quickly, a little self-conscious, "I was just— ah, I don't recognize your voice. Have we met?"

"No." He replied benevolently, "But…I think it's time we did. My name is Steve."

"Um…Hi." She said shyly, "I'm Charlie."

"Odd name for a dame." The man stated. She could almost hear the awkward smile on his face, "Ahem…I mean, girl… I, ah…I take it that Charlie is short for Charlotte?"

She nodded, making a face. "Yeah, but only my dad calls me—called me, that." She corrected, glancing down at her feet. She added quickly, "Are you an agent?"

"No. No, I'm not an agent." He told her kindheartedly, "I'm really sorry to hear about your dad, Charlie."

"Thanks…" She looked back up at her reflection, changing the subject, "If you're not an agent, than why are you here?"

There was another pause, "I just want to talk to you for a bit."

"Um…Okay." She crossed her arms over her chest.

More silence, then, "You have a very beautiful voice."

"Thank you." Charlie muttered, glancing away shyly. _So, _She thought,_ he had been here before_. "I got it from my mom."

"Yeah?" His voice was light, "What's she like?"

"She was a Broadway actress. Real starlet, too, until… I came along and ended her career. " Charlie told him, "You ever been to a Broadway show?"

"A few. But, that was a really long time ago. I'm sure it's different now." He asked curiously, "I thought you were from Boston?"

"Yeah… Cambridge, originally though." She shifted, "What about you? Where are you from?"

"Brooklyn."

"No shit?"

"Ah…yeah." Steve coughed uncomfortably.

Charlie grinned mischievously, "Should I even bring up the Yankees?"

He laughed, "No, ah…I think we should keep this civil."

She nodded, "Good call."

Yet another pause. "Charlie," His tone changed to something more somber, "I need to ask you something…"

"Okay?" Charlie braced herself.

"What—" He took a deep breath, changing his mind midsentence, "What are you going to do when you get out of here?"

Charlie's face fell, abruptly. There was a long period where she just stared at the mirror, trying to imagine the man on the other side. "You…really can't be that naïve?" She hesitated, her voice cracking, "Or are you just trying to be cruel?"

"What do you mean?" He questioned, genuinely surprised.

"I've been in here for nearly a month, and no one will even tell what's wrong!" Charlie shook her head angrily, tears glistening in her eyes. He had confirmed her worst suspicions, "You know it, and I know it! The only way I'm getting out of this is in a box!"

"Charlie, no! That's not—"

"I don't want to talk anymore!" She said sharply, cutting him off as she turned away and climbed back on to the cot, "Do me a favor and hit the lights? I'm tired."

* * *

Day 28:

Charlie wanted so badly just to be able to fall asleep. Mentally, she was exhausted. Physically, her body was vibrating from all the penned up energy that she had collected. She lay on her cot, staring up at the dark ceiling blankly, wishing she could close her eyes and drift off.

Dr. Banner was gone until morning, when ever that would be, and the lights would be out until he returned. Charlie had no choice but to try and rest. The problem was she could not close her eyes without her thoughts turning blacker than the room around her.

Charlie was going to die in here.

There was not a doubt in her mind that she was already well on her way. She was looking more and more sickly by the day. Her skin was ash white and grayish. Her eyes had lost their shine and were so deeply encased by dark circles that she looked like she had two black eyes. Her hair had grown an inch, turning stringy and lifeless, and tinged darker with oil. She was wasting into nothing, body and soul.

She wondered if that's what they wanted; if that was what the whole point of all this was? Not to save her, but to see how much she could take. She took a deep breath, deeply disturbed by the thought, as she glanced at the red dot of the camera floating in the corner of the room. She tried to take it back, and convince herself that it was untrue. She was being paranoid. But… it seemed so logical.

She had been exposed to whatever it was that they had been studying. She could safely assume, given the presence of Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, and in all likelihood, Dr. Selvig, that whatever that had been, was gone now. Maybe it had been stolen? Maybe it had been destroyed, somehow? Regardless, she was now the only connection they had to it. And, there is only so much data that can be gathered from a living body.

She knew nothing about these men. Were they capable of letting her die in their pursuit of knowledge? She had no doubt that they would have her on an autopsy slab before she was even cold.

Charlie had begun to hyperventilate, terrified be her own musings. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she curled into a ball, rocking back and forth under the sheet.

She wanted to hide. She wanted to just disappear to somewhere. Anywhere! But, the red eye continued to glare down at her from the wall. She knew it must have night vision, and that it was recording every move she made. She was never alone. There was always someone watching.

She slammed her hands down onto the cot with a frustrated yell. The bed trembled under the action, but Charlie paid it no attention. She leapt to her feet, bounding across the room and jumping onto the rim of the four-foot counter effortlessly. Reaching up, she grasped the camera by its lens and pulled. There was a spark and a crackling noise, and it came free of the wall as if it had been mounted there with nothing more than tape.

Stunned, Charlie hopped down, examining the camera closely. Her eyes widened as she fingered the three inch grouping of dead wires spilling out the back, all frayed and split, before glancing back up to the bundle of still sparking chords on the ceiling. She looked to and fro, repeatedly, unable to believe what she had just done. _How is this possible?_ She thought, _Maybe the wiring was really old? Or, it was already broken, before I grabbed it? Or, maybe..? _She thought back to the shattered glass with the orange juice spilling everywhere, and held the broken hunk of equipment in front of her, squeezing it like it was a piece of ripe fruit. The metal and plastic popped and cracked until the floor was littered with little camera chunks. She dropped the rest of the small fragments in her hand, laughing with bewilderment.

Yes, Charlie would die in here. _But, _She considered, looking at the destroyed mechanical spy with malice, _not if I do something about it, first._

* * *

Day 29:

Charlie was lying still on the linoleum, arms folded under her head like a pillow as she watched the florescent lights flicker on. The door hissed open, and she heard Dr. Banner step inside, his footsteps stopping abruptly. "I, ah…see you redecorated."

Charlie sat up, peering at him over the edge of the now mattress-less bed. He was staring down at the smashed camera with a daunting look in his eyes. Sensing her gaze, he glanced back over at her with curiosity, and she retreated back behind her newly constructed wall. She had spun the cot around, so that it ran parallel to the one-way glass, then had removed the mattress and laid it vertically along the bed frame, creating a barrier between them and her. She had then taken one of the sheets and strung it up with on the monitors, making a curtain that ran along the other side. This left her a snug 7x4 foot space to lie in, comfortably and privately.

Dr. Banner leaned over the cot and looked down at her, a perplexed expression on his unshaven face. "Charlie…" He began, choosing his words carefully, "What…hmm…Why did you..?"

She frowned up at him, "Don't ask stupid questions."

Banner jerked his head back at her sudden hostility, "Okay… Do you mind telling me what happened to the camera?"

"Don't you have it on tape?" She quipped bluntly, lying down on her back with her arm covering her eyes.

He rubbed his eyes, turning to the mirror and shaking his head in worry, "What's wrong Charlie?"

"Nothing." She lied dismally.

"Hmm." He replied as he crossed to his work station and sat down, "Is that why you built yourself a fortress and destroyed the surveillance equipment?"

Charlie crawled out from behind the curtain and stood, squaring her shoulders. She considered him as he bent over his work, flipping through the pages of notes he had made in an elegant scrawl. He was at such contrast with her suspicions that she wondered if he was capable of such deceit. She took a deep breath and reasoned, _There's only one way to find out._

"What's wrong with me?" She asked blatantly, hands straight at her sides.

Dr. Banner straightened and turned to her, removing his spectacles, "Charlie… I know this is hard, but I—"

"If you tell me that you 'need me to be patient just a little longer' one more time, I swear to God, I will punch you in your face!" She snapped furiously at him, her hands in fists to keep them from shaking.

He stood up quickly, taking a step back and holding his hands up, "Charlie— Don't do that! That is a really bad idea! Trust me. Just…calm down."

"No!" Charlie cried, throwing up her hands in frustration, "No! I will not! I'm so tired of this run around! I have the right to know why I'm here!"

"Charlie—"

"No! No…" Her throat felt tight, "Do you have any idea what it's like in here? Everything is frozen…There is no way to tell time; no clock, or radio, or T.V.! No day or night! No connection to anyone, but you! It's like I'm trapped in limbo! You cannot keep me in here! I…" The tears began to well up and spill over as her voice broke, "I don't want to die in here!"

"Oh, Charlie…" Banner sighed, reaching out to her. She instinctively flinched away. He swallowed, glancing at the mirror like he was seeking reassurance, "It's almost over. I promise you, Charlie, it'll all be over soon."

Bursting into sobs, Charlie threw her arms around him, crying into his shirt. Banner hesitated, before gently wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her shoulders. "Everything is going to be alright." He muttered into her hair.

After a moment, Charlie pulled away, nodding as she wiped her cheeks. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"It's alright." He told her wholeheartedly, stepping back from her, "I'm…ah…going to get you some breakfast." He turned to leave, adding, "And I want you to eat it."

Charlie nodded, retreating back into her fort as the door hissed shut. She sat Indian style, with her back pressed against the wall, breathing deeply with her eyes closed. She had studied his face closely and there was an uncertainty in his eyes that told her everything she needed to know. Dr. Banner was, in fact, not capable of just letting her die. He could not so much as lie to her, let alone murder her, without giving himself away. However, he was clearly not the one in charge of this endeavor. He could make all the promises he wanted, but they were all empty.

He was powerless to stop any of this.

Charlie smiled miserably to herself, pulling his laminated I.D. badge from underneath the fabric of her shirt and glaring at it remorsefully, "Don't make promises you can't keep, Doctor."

_One down. Two to go._

* * *

Day 30:

"Okay…" Charlie muttered to herself in the dark, "Let's try this one more time…"

It was still early yet; Charlie estimated that she had about 30 minutes until Dr. Banner came in for the morning. She sat cross-legged in her corner with her hands resting on her knees as she took a series of deep, calming breaths. She squared her shoulders, twisting her neck around in an attempt to loosen her muscles. She focused on the weight of everything, feeling the anger, fear, sorrow, and guilt come crashing painfully down on her. She gritted her teeth, side-stepping her instinct to retreat, and instead met it head on. She pushed back with all her will, forcing the weight off of her. It only took a couple of seconds for her to feel it give way this time. She lifted herself into the air, rising steadily off the linoleum.

She hovered a good six feet off the ground, willing herself to stay level as she glanced down. A wide grin spread across her face, and it took everything she had not to yell in triumph. "Yeah," She laughed quietly, nodding to herself proudly, "I can fly."

The lights switched on.

Instantly, Charlie dropped, hitting the floor a lot harder than she had expected with a groan. She hit ass first, sending a shooting pain up her spin, before collapsed onto her back. "Oh…" She breathed, reaching to rub the injury as she continued to lay there with a twisted expression on her face, "_Ouch_."

The door hissed open, and she immediately grabbed her pillow and placed it over her head. She listened to Banner's footsteps as he walked in, smelling the aroma of the coffee in his hand. "Good morning." He greeted her kindly as he moved to glance over the cot.

Charlie grunted as she pulled the pillow down just enough to look up at him. He had an amused smile on his tired face that made Charlie want to reconsider the whole 'no punching' thing. She sighed into the fabric, "There is no such thing."

He chuckled as he sat down by the sink, picking up on whatever it is he had been doing the night before. Charlie considered him carefully as he worked today; paying special attention to the code he entered into the biometric scanner each time he left. She had it solidly committed to memory by lunch, and by mid-afternoon, Charlie had steeled herself for the next step. She closed the copy of _I Am Number Four_ she had been reading (finding it surprisingly relatable) and sighed, poking her head out to ask Dr. Banner, "Would it be cool if I borrowed a notepad and pencil? I'm bored with this book…"

"Ah, sure." Banner replied without the slightest hesitation. He pulled an empty notebook from one of the drawers and handed it to her with a mechanical pencil. She made sure not to smile too readily as she accepted the two, though it was hard. "Thanks." She told him, retreating back behind the curtain.

"No problem."

Charlie pretended to doodle for a while, making sure that Banner was once again completely immersed in his work before she tore out a page. Carefully folding the paper into a small envelope, she laid it open on the floor in front of her. Removing the eraser from the pencil, she cautiously poured the three extra graphite sticks onto the parchment, making sure that one remained so it would still work. Then, she closed the envelope gently, hiding it under the cot with Dr. Banner's stolen I.D. badge.

* * *

Day 31:

"Are we really going to do this again, Charlie?" Dr. Banner rubbed his eyes, irritated.

Charlie had thought long and hard about exactly how she should play this. Thankfully, tonight's dinner looked about as disgusting as the food normally tasted, which made things a whole lot simpler. She looked down at the plate of Salisbury steak and potatoes, smothered in gray goo, with a repulsed frown. "I'm not hungry." She said.

He sighed, "You need to eat! This isn't healthy."

She snorted, wrinkling her nose and pushing the tray back at him, "I'm not eating…_that._"

"Why not?" Banner questioned, frowning.

"Look at it!" She exclaimed, "It looks like someone already ate it! Sure as hell smells like it."

He rested his hand against his mouth to hide his mirth, "I'm sure it's not that bad…"

Charlie raised her eyebrow and picked up her fork, careful only to touch the very tip of the handle, holding it up to him, "Then, you eat it."

Banner did not move right away, but Charlie continued to stare at him expectantly. He took the fork and cut a piece of the steak with the edge, popping it into his mouth. She laughed aloud at the face he made, forcing himself to swallow. "You're right," He coughed, trying not to laugh, "It does taste like shit."

Charlie threw her hands up, "See!"

He dropped the fork back on the tray, considering her. "I'll tell you what." He began cautiously, "If you eat half of that tonight, I'll get you a pizza tomorrow."

"A real pizza? Like, from the outside world?"

"Yep." He confirmed, "But, only if you eat. Deal?"

She nodded slowly, "Deal."

"Alright, then." Dr. Banner agreed, returning to his work.

Charlie took the tray and sunk down into her corner, sitting it on the floor gingerly. She stripped the case from her pillow, and using its edge, lifted the fork by its tip and laid it under the cot next to the envelope and I.D. badge. She smiled to herself, pleased with her good work, and pulled the tray closer. She picked up the spoon and forced the goop down her gullet, barely tasting it.

She was too anxious about what had to happen next.

Hours passed. Dr. Banner finished running her latest blood panel and began to gather his things to leave for the night. Charlie sat, watching him, with her back pressed against the mattress. "Until tomorrow." He said quietly, "Try and get some sleep tonight."

Charlie nodded solemnly, "You should take your own advice Doctor."

He smiled, nodding back and chuckling softly. Charlie watched him approach the door with trepidation. She felt a sudden surge of guilt in the pit of her stomach. She took a deep breath, but she had to say something. "Dr. Banner?"

He turned back. Charlie swallowed thickly, her heart racing. "Thank you." She told him quietly, "For everything."

Banner smiled warmly at her, "Your more welcome, Charlie." And then he left with the door locking shut behind him.

Charlie felt sick; her shame at deceiving Dr. Banner intertwining with her nerves about the next step. _It has to be done. _She told herself firmly, staring at the mirror as the lights dimmed, _It's the only way you make it out of this alive. _

She had asked him to leave one of the lights on, so she could read until she was tried enough to sleep, and he had obliged, leaving the light on above the counter. Charlie sat opposite the mirror, waiting in the semi-darkness. She was not sure how long she sat there, but eventually she again retreated to behind the cot. She waited there for what must have been another hour before setting everything in motion.

Charlie breathed deep, trying to force the Salisbury steak to stay down, as she removed the envelope from under the bed. She deftly pinched the sticks of graphite between her fingers, grinding it until the paper was full of a fine silver powder. Next, she picked the fork up by the tip, mirroring Dr. Banners hand movement above the metal with her other hand. Holding her breath, she poured the dust with care along the backside of the handle. She gently placed the fork back on the linoleum, watchful not to let the graphite smear as she pulled the I.D. badge from its hiding spot. She bit down on the edge of the laminate, tearing it with her teeth. It took her a second to pull the layers apart, but she managed to separate a single layer of sticky plastic.

Another deep breath; she only had one shot at this. She pressed the adhesive side of the laminate to the handle of the fork, and then slowly pulled it away, holding it up to the light. A grin extended from ear to ear as she looked up at a nearly perfect thumbprint. She laughed quietly in amazement, trying not to draw attention to herself in case someone was watching from the other side of the one-way glass. "Hello?" She called out and waited.

Nothing.

Charlie stood, pushing the curtain aside and strode to the biometric lock. She stared at it, trying to build up the courage to take the last step. "Come on, Charlie…" She hissed, reaching out and dialing in the nine digit code she had watched Banner enter a thousand times. The fingerprint pad lit up, and Charlie swore under quietly as she pushed the sheet of plastic over the scanner. It seemed like it took minutes and not seconds for the scan to complete. Charlie inhaled sharply. The locked turned green and the door hissed open.

Charlie gawked at the opening, too stunned to move, "There is no way that should have worked…"

* * *

**OMG... I'm sorry it took so long for me to update guys, but this chapter was a bitch to write! **

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed it! :)**

**I'll have Chapter 10 up soon, promise. **

**Will Charlie escape? Or will Director Fury and tha agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. stop her before she even makes it to the surface? Stay tuned to find out!**

**Thanks for reading everybody! You're all amazing! **


	11. Chapter 10

**Hi there! This story takes place in the Marvel Cinematic Universe of _The Avengers_, after _Iron Man 3_, so beware,**SPOILERS! ** However, there is one major difference: in this story, Stark DID NOT have his arch reactor removed.I just like him having it and I need it for later plot points.**

**I own nothing.**

**Rated T for Violence and Language**

* * *

**Part Two:**** Radioactive **

**Chapter 10**

"Alright Charlie, what now?" She whispered to herself, stepping cautiously into the empty observation room.

In all honesty, Charlie had not expected her plan to work; not in a hundred years. And, why should it have? Calling it a long-shot would have been a colossal understatement. She had not even been sure it was possible; just an unbelievably insane idea that had come from the three days of _CSI_ marathons and _Mythbusters_ reruns on the Science Channel, before they had locked her in here. And, even if she had been able to lift Banner's thumbprint, it should not have been able to fool such a high quality scanner. Right? _Must not be that high quality. _She contemplated, _After all, it is the government. Everything is manufactured by the cheapest bidder. Maybe more for show..? Psychological assurance? Fool people into thinking they're secure... _

Still, there was no way in Hell that this should have worked. That was why Charlie had not planned for anything beyond opening the door. Which, she now realized, had been be a big mistake.

She shook her head in astonishment, carefully treading across the room and glancing back through the one-way glass. However this turned out, Charlie was positive that this would be the last time she would ever see this place. _Good riddance_, She thought bitterly, turning her back on the prison cell for good and facing the door into the complex directly. There was no lock and no handle, only a round button to press on the wall adjacent to it. She took another deep breath with her fingers hovering above the switch, wondering what she would find on the other side. She had no idea how far down she was from the surface. And, there was no way to know how many locked doors, hallways and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents stood in her way.

She pressed down with a sharp jab of her fingers and the door hissed open. Charlie instantly jumped back, guardedly sticking her head out and looking around. The hallway dead-ended to her right, but continued on for as far as she could see to her left, and was well lit with florescent lighting. It was completely deserted; there was not a soul to be seen in the metallic hall due to the late hour. Charlie prayed that the rest of the base would be this empty, hoping beyond hope that it was run by a skeleton crew at night.

She crept into the corridor, sticking close to the wall as she warily made her down to the end, trying every door along the way. All she could hear was the blood pounding in her ears as her heart threatened to blow out of her chest. Every room was locked with a biometric security device, just like her room had been from the outside, forcing her to keep moving as her panic began to mount. It took her a few fretful minutes to finally reach the elevator, but she was forced to abruptly stop and flatten herself to the wall, glaring up at the swiveling security camera opposite it with loathing_. How could you have overlooked something like security cameras? _Charlie wanted to beat her head against the wall in frustration, _Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_

She glanced beyond the elevator and saw the double doors to the stairwell, marked with a small sign that showed a staircase with a red flame under it that read "use in case of fire". Charlie decided immediately that the stairs were the safer bet. She reasoned that the elevator would be more widely used and probably had a camera of its own.

She just needed to get passed this camera, first.

She watched it turn from left to right, counting the seconds in her head, _One. One Thousand. Two. One Thousand. Three. One Thousand. Four. One thousand. Five…_ Four and a half seconds per one rotation. Charlie took a deep breath watching it turn back the other way. That meant four and a half seconds to sip under the camera, into the stairwell, and close the door completely to go unnoticed. She exhaled, _Piece of cake. Right? _

She waited until the camera lens was facing the doors before she crossed the hall, slipping against the wall and shuffling to the side, mirroring the camera as it turned. She pressed her shoulder against the door, practically falling threw it. She bounced back, thrusting the door shut as the camera made its way back around. By the time it reached the doors, Charlie was already halfway up the first flight of steps.

Absentmindedly clutching at her heart, she stumbled onto the first landing where she took a moment to lean against the wall and breathe. She needed to calm down. She had to calm down! She would never make it to the surface in this state. She bent forward, resting her hands on her knees. _You can do this! _Charlie told herself silently, _You can do this! Just breathe! Breathe… You can freak out when you make it out of here. Until then…until then… Oh hell! What's wrong with me?! _

"What are you doing, Charlie?" She sighed softly, shaking her head anxiously, "What are you going to do?" She took a step forward and looked up, staring at the seemingly infinite swirl of stairs and landings. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, instantly dizzy with vertigo. She closed her eyes and swallowed, suddenly struck by paralyzing fear. How could she have thought she could do this? It was hopeless. Futile. Impossible.

And, with that thought, the memory of sitting at her mother's bedside violently overtook her. Surrounded by stale walls and beeping machines, her mother had smiled up at her from her pillow. She had still had her hair then; long chocolate waves curling down over her hospital shirt as the I.V. swirled up to a silver bag with a radiation symbol on it. "_Are you sacred?" _Charlie had asked her, taking her other hand.

"_Yes." _Her mother had answered, _"But, sometimes being scared is okay. As long as you don't let it stop you from doing what's important." _

"_I don't get it." _She had questioned, _"What's so important that you would go through all this?" _

And her mother had laughed, but it had not been her usual airy chime, _"You are, Silly. You and your father are worth fighting for. I want you to remember that, okay?" _She had brushed a long curl out of Charlie's eyes, "_You got to fight, Charlie. Life can be hard and cruel sometimes, but you just keep fighting. Keep moving. Never stop. And why is that?" _

"Because I'm worth fighting for."Charlie answered quietly, wiping the water out of her eyes. She breathed deep and exhaled, squaring her shoulders, nodding, "Fight. I'm going to fight. Just like I always do…Always will…" She stepped up onto the next step, gripping the handrail, "Keep fighting. Come on…" She took another step, "Fight back, Charlie!" Up one more, "Fight!" She began jogging up the steps, slowly at first, but soon she was at a full out run. Bounding over the stairs three at a time, she paused only to try to dodge the cameras placed on every third landing, easily conquering the next floor, and the next, all the way to the top.

She came to the last set of doors, the sign next to them declaring "Level 8" in thick black letters. So did that mean she was eight floors down? Or was she eight floors up? She groaned, sliding to the edge of the nearest sliver of a window and peeking out. She saw the red dot of the camera positioned opposite the door, fixed on the very pane she was looking through. At once, Charlie dropped to the ground, swearing colorfully under her breath. She inhaled, counting, "One. One thousand. Two. One Thousand. Three…" She stuck her head back up, and sure enough, the camera was glancing down the hallway. Charlie pulled the door open, crouching under the camera as it turned back, before she sprinted down the hall. Sliding into the corner, she disappeared into another deserted passage.

This hallway was very narrow, only six or so feet across, with the rooms all lined along the right side. As she tiptoed passed more locked doors, the lights in their windows extinguished for the night, she could not help but wonder where everybody was? There was not a single sign of life in the place. Not that she was complaining, but she had expected to come across someone by now. She smirked piteously, _Nice to see our tax dollars at work. _

She could see the corridor open up into a room a few doors ahead. Charlie sped up, practically jogging, when she heard the voices drifting towards her. Her heart bottomed out into her stomach, _Spoke too soon! _ She looked around frantically, grabbing onto the door nearest her and trying the lock. It remained closed. _Oh, God! Oh, God! _She begged, _What do I do? _She looked up pleadingly and her eyes immediately locked on the sprinkler, another insane idea popping into her head.

Charlie took a deep breath. Sprinting toward the wall and jumping up, she pushed off the paneling with her right foot, thrusting into the air. She willed herself weightless, floating up with extraordinary speed. Bringing her legs up and bracing them against the walls in a perfect split,

she snatched onto the sprinkler head and held herself there.

She watched as two agents wearing dark blue uniforms entered into the passage; a man and a woman walking in near step, casually chatting. The woman was explaining something to him, talking with her hands as he nodded. Charlie watched them closely as they passed under her, completely oblivious to her presence. She eyed the pistols on their hips nervously, holding her breath as they disappeared around the bend.

She exhaled and released the metal valve, silently dropping down and landing on all fours without so much as a wince. Standing, she turned to face the direction the agents had disappeared in. She listened closely, barely breathing, to make sure they were really gone. She stood there for a good sixty seconds, but no sound reached her ears. The corridor was once again completely empty.

Charlie let out a deep sigh of relief, running her hand through her hair and onto her neck, as she turned on her heels…and came face to face with Agent Barton.

"Shit."

* * *

"You still can't find it?" Tony asked as Bruce continued to rummage through his bag, the young agent standing at the door to the hangar looking at the two of them expectantly.

"No." Bruce shook his head, pulling out notebooks and frowning, "It's gone."

Tony sighed, impatient. He turned back to the kid in the uniform, "Look, you know who we are!" He gestured to himself and Banner animatedly, like if it were obvious because it was, "Just let us go already!"

"I'm sorry Mr. Stark," The agent replied in a dull monotone, "But, without proper identification I cannot let Dr. Banner into this area. It's restricted."

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, "Unbelievable!" He looked back at Bruce, "Where's the last place you had it?"

Banner placed the binders back into his satchel, "Um…Quarantine." He suddenly paused, staring at Tony with a furrowed brow. "You don't think…" He began carefully, "that Charlie took it, do you?"

Stark considered him coolly, "Only one way to find out."

Bruce sighed, shaking his head, as he followed Tony towards the elevator. They rode it down to the interrogation level is silence. Both men had become overly disillusioned about this whole situation. They were tired; weary of it all. They needed a break, which is what they had been attempting to do when Bruce had been denied entrance to the hangar.

Bruce wondered why Charlie would take his I.D. card. More than likely, she had not. It probably had just slipped out of his bag while he was packing up a few nights ago. He had been searching for it as long, but since he had not tried to leave the section, he had not really given it much of his focus. That is, until tonight, when he had needed it to leave the base.

He sighed as the glinting doors slid open, stepping out into the passage and swiftly walking down to the last room with Stark beside him. Bruce hurriedly entered his code into the lock and pressed his thumb to the pad, which flashed green. The door slid open and they stepped into the observation area. He glanced through the one-way glass before turning on the lights, the room instantly brightening as he stepped inside. "Charlie," He called, "Just me. Sorry, but I'm missing— Charlie?"

There was no reaction to the lights, or to his presence. Bruce strode across the room and peered over the cot and into her corner. He had expected to find her fast asleep, curled around her pillow, but what he found instead made his heart stop. He reached down and lifted his I.D. off the floor, holding it up to the mirror with horrified eyes, "She's gone!"

Tony immediately rushed through the door, "What?"

Bruce shook his head, panicked. "I don't—I..?" He stammered. His first thought was that Fury had taken her somewhere. His stomach muscles clenched and he felt his pulse begin to race. He took a deep breath, forcing himself calm and glancing around at the room. Looking down at his badge, his fingers brushed against something sticky, "Part of the laminate is gone."

"Yeah…" Tony breathed, standing in front of the biometric lock, "I think I found it."

Bruce moved to stand beside him, his eyes widening as he got closer. "What the hell?" He said slowly, staring in disbelief at the plastic stuck to the fingerprint scanner. He peeled it off, holding it up for a better look at the thumbprint outlined in graphite.

"You have got to be joking…" Stark almost laughed, too stunned to do anything else, "Who is this kid? MacGyver?"

"We got to find her, Tony!" Bruce exclaimed, unable to hide the trepidation in his voice, "Before anyone else does!"

"Bruce, I'm sure that—"

"No! Listen!" Banner begged, "This whole thing is a giant political pressure cooker! Everybody knows that! We're all at each other's throats over it, because we all know what she is capable of! S.H.I.E.L.D. _knows_! And, Charlie just gave them the excuse that they've been looking for!"

Tony stared at him, his face grim, "You really think they'd hurt her—a _child_—to get what they want?"

Bruce scowled, "S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't ask nice, Tony! Trust me!"

* * *

"Shit." Charlie hissed, instantly jumping back, gawking up at Agent Barton with panic filled eyes. Dread shot up her spine, forcing her heart to skip a beat. Her entire body tensed; shoulders hunching forward as her hands balled into fists, bracing herself for what she knew was coming.

Barton, it seemed, had not yet recovered from the shock of turning the corner and finding her. He starred down at her with his unnaturally relentless, piercing grey eyes. His brow was creased in bewilderment, and his jaw was clenched tight with what Charlie took to be aggravation. He glanced up at the ceiling, tilting his head an inch to the left, and then glared back at her with a questioning look. He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, closed it, and then opened it again. "What…are you doing, Charlie?" He asked slowly, his voice easygoing and calm.

"I—I…Um…" Charlie faltered. She glanced behind him uncertainly, trying to think of a way passed, but her mind had gone completely blank.

He followed her gaze and shifted to his right, creating an opening for her. "Hey… It's okay. Why don't we sit down?" He offered gently, holding out his hand for her to go ahead of him, "And…ah, talk."

Charlie hesitated, unsure of what she should do. Her instincts were screaming at her to run for it, but experience told her that she would not stand a chance. Barton was not only faster than she was, he knew this place intimately. She would not make it ten yards before he would swoop down on her. She swallowed anxiously, moving around him with her back to the wall, never turning away from him. Barton watched her curiously, frowning slightly as she backed into the room. Charlie found the look on his face disconcerting. He had a way of making her feel transparent, and God, did she hate him for it.

Glancing around, a small spark of hope suddenly flickered to life somewhere above her diaphragm. She knew this place!

They were standing in the small cafeteria that Agent Taylor had brought her passed on her first day here. She recognized the table that Agent Barton had been sitting at with his coffee, the vending machines lines against the wall behind her, and the view from the door opposite them. Now, if she could just get away from him…

"Have a seat." He said casually, pulling out a chair from under the nearest table.

Charlie shook her head, muttering, "I'd rather stand."

"Fair enough." He nodded, pushing the seat back and grinning handsomely at her, "That was a cute stunt you pulled. That hanging from the sprinkler thing…Where'd you learn that?"

Charlie shrugged shyly, avoiding eye contact, "Just did it."

"It was clever." He told her, "Very out of the box. Most people would just run…or fight, for that matter. But, not you. No… Makes me wonder how you got out of the quarantine room?"

She shrugged again, but did not say anything. She glanced to her left, at the doors across the room, trying to retrace the steps she had taken here, only backwards. But, it had been a long time since that day, and Charlie found herself second guessing every turn.

Again, Barton followed her gaze. He took a step to his left and, as he had suspected, Charlie reacted by mirroring his movement, just like she had done in Boston. He doubted she was aware of her response to him; she was too terrified for that.

He took another step and so did she, "I'm not sure what's more impressive…that you broke out of a high security ward or that you made it this far without setting off any alarms?"

Charlie glanced up at him, frowning, "You call that high security?"

Barton chuckled, a deep rumbling sound from his chest, thoroughly amused. He took another step, his tone turning more serious as he scrutinized her, "How well have you thought this through, Charlie?"

"What do you mean?" She questioned, not taking her eyes off him now.

Another shuffle to the left. "Well," He began smoothly, "Even if you make it to the surface and off the base, where are you going to go? Back to Boston? Do you have money? I.D.? A way out of here?" He looked at her almost sadly, "I know you're scared, but—"

"Really?" Charlie challenged him unsteadily, "Is that what you know?"

"I can see it in your eyes, Charlie." He said soothingly, "I can see you shaking from here. I know you're scared, and you're desperate. Who wouldn't be? After everything… But, you're making a very big mistake."

She violently shook her head back and forth, "I'm not!"

"You sure about that?" He asked softly, taking another stride, "Because, whatever it is you decide now, it's you that's going to have to live with it. Not me."

Charlie stopped, staring at his boots, suddenly realizing what he had been doing. She glanced around neurotically, finding him once again between her and the exit, her back to the narrow hall she had just emerged from. She glared at him, her fear taking a backseat to the anger that rushed through her like a flash fire, boiling her blood. Water welled up in her eyes as her frustration rose, her chest tightening like a vice. She had had enough. "Are you sure about that?" She rumbled quietly, her voice trembling with rage, "Because, from where I'm standing, you people are the ones making all the mistakes!"

Her change in demeanor did not go unnoticed. Barton straitened his shoulders, tilting his head back and holding up his hands openly, "What makes you say that?"

She smirked at him crossly, tears spilling down her cheeks, "You keep underestimating me. You shouldn't."

Agent Barton studied her face closely, his light expression faltering, "Clearly."

"I'm not going back to that place." Charlie told him firmly, standing her ground.

"Okay." He agreed, nodding as he took a step towards her, "Okay. Why don't I take you to see Director Fury, and you can talk it over with him?"

She did not budge, "I'm not going anywhere with you!"

Barton slowly reached out to grasp her arm, "Charlie—"

"Don't touch me!" Charlie cried, jerking away from him roughly, "J—just let me go! God, for your own shake, just…get out of my way!"

Barton took a step back, starring at her. It was impossible to not to hear the threat in her voice, no matter how badly he wanted to ignore it. His jaw was set in a firm line, "You know I can't do that."

"Can't or won't?" She snapped at him, "What are you going to do? Drag me in, kicking and screaming? I think that's how Fury phrased it last time!"

Agent Barton shook his head forlornly, sighing heavily, "Please don't make me do this, Charlie…"

"I'm not making you do anything!" She exclaimed, hunching forward defensively, "Walk away while you have the chance…" Charlie was shaking now for a very different reason, "I—I'm warning you!"

"Charlie," Barton breathed in disappointment, striding forward and grabbing hold of her shoulder firmly. It was not a violent gesture; his grip was as gentle and non-threatening as he could manage, "Just let me—"

He never got the chance to finish his offer.

The instant his hand had clamped down on her, Charlie went into a full blown panic. Her body reacted before her mind could even fathom a solution. She reached out with both hands and clawed them into his shirt, lifting him off the ground with an ease that astonished even her. His pale eyes widened in utter shock as his feet left the ground, gasping as she jerked him forward forcefully, and then shoved him back, hard. Barton soared through the air like a rag doll, slamming into the wall with a sickening _crunch!_ "Oomph!" The air escaped from him lungs as the wind was knocked out of him, collapse onto the ground and lying flat on his stomach, "Aaah…"

Charlie starred at his sprawled form, horrified with what she had just done. She looked down at her hands aghast, shaking her head in disbelief, fresh tears streaming down her face. Barton coughed, gasping for breath, as he pushed himself off the ground. He starred up at her from his hands and knees, too stunned to do much else.

She starred back, whispering apologetically, "I—I just want to go home!"

A deafening _BANG! _thundered through the room.

Charlie had not been sure what the sound had been until she felt the pain. It felt like someone had taken a baseball bat and slammed it into her left arm, a white hot pain searing into her triceps. She gasped, grabbing onto her shoulder and instantly doubling over as hot blood gushed through her fingers. She wanted to scream in agony, but her voice had frozen in her throat, her heart pounding deafeningly in her ears. Her eyes widened with revelation.

She had been shot.

Barton was screaming something, but in her dazed state she could not understand him. The world seemed to be moving in slow motion. It made her feel dizzy and sick as she desperately searched for the source of the shot. Her eyes darted back to Barton, who was starring at her with an expression that was a mix of horror and anger, as he tried to scramble to his feet. Charlie took a deep breath and did the only thing she could think to do.

She ran.

* * *

**Part Two complete.**

**To be continued in Part Three: Bulletproof**

**Oh... I know this took _so_ long... I'm sorry! **

******Again, this chapter has been cut in half. **But, here's the thing... I feel a little conflicted about some of the things I've put in here, and some of the things I didn't. This chapter had about five different versions originally, and I had to make some tough decisions. Mainly, how in control is Charlie? And what's Barton's reaction? I like what I chose, but they are important decisions that needed to be considered thoroughly. 

**This chapter, along with the next two, shape the entire story in my mind. They are very important, and thus I feel justified in taking a little extra time. So please be patient. I'll get you there, I promise. **

**Up next: Chapter 11**

**Charlie is on the run! Will she make it to the surface? Will Bruce and Tony find her before anymore damage is done? **

**Keep reading! I love you all! **

**Reviews are always welcome. **


	12. Chapter 11

**Hi there! This story takes place in the Marvel Cinematic Universe of _The Avengers_, after _Iron Man 3_, so beware,**SPOILERS! ** However, there is one major difference: in this story, Stark DID NOT have his arch reactor removed.I just like him having it and I need it for later plot points.**

**I own nothing.**

**Rated T for Violence and Strong Language (one little F-word in quotation).**

* * *

**Part Three:**** Bulletproof **

**Chapter 11**

Clint Barton had long ago learned to let his muscles relax before an impact. The instant he had felt his feet leave the ground; he forced his body to go limp, sailing through the air and slamming into the wall behind him with unbelievable force. His shoulders hit first, sending pain radiating through his arms and down his spine to his feet, tripling the sting as they immediately followed suit. His head snapped into the paneling, fireworks erupting in front of his eyes as the world threaten to go dark. He felt the air being sucked out of his lungs, agony traveling the length of his ribs, as he slumped inertly to the ground.

"Aaah…" He groaned, shifting in and out of consciousness. He forced the blackness away, struggling to get his hands underneath him. He tried to take a breath, but the air caught in his throat and he began to cough. He pushed himself onto his elbows, still hacking, as a sharp ache shot along his ribcage and spine. He looked up at Charlie hazily, crawling onto his hands. She was staring at him in utter shock, shaking her head with tears streaming down her cheeks and her hands trembling in front of her.

"I—I just want to go home!" She whispered to him, remorsefully.

Clint's eyes caught movement behind her. He watched unsteadily as two agents approached from the hall; a young man and a woman, their guns drawn and at the ready. "Hold your fire!" Clint struggled to shout, but another coughing fit overtook him.

That is when the first shot rang out.

He watched in horror as blood burst from Charlie's upper arm, splattering over him and the wall. Her eyes widened instantly, doubling over as she grabbed onto her wound, blood seeping through her fingers. She did not scream. She did not make a sound. She was beyond that now, too terrified to speak. "Hold your fire! Damn it!" Barton cried, desperately trying to reclaim his breath as he clambered back onto his feet, "Hold!"

Charlie took a shaky breath as she straightened and bolted towards the double doors, the young male agent moving to chase after her. Clint heard the woman shouting for her partner to stop, but he continued his pursuit. Having reclaimed his footing, Barton smashed into the boy, grabbing onto the gun as it discharged, blasting into the wall behind him. Yanking the pistol from the young agent's hands, he slammed his fist into his jaw with more force than was necessary. The agent collapsed to the floor, blood gushing from his nose. He starred up at Barton, stunned.

"I told you to hold!" Clint shouted at him, irate, jerking back the pistol's slide and ejecting the magazine. He glared down at the rookie with distain, tossing the pieces at him, "Who the hell gave you a gun, anyway?"

"But, Agent Barton, sir…" The female agent stepped forward uncertainly, "The prisoner? She's escaping."

Clint's head whipped around. "Prisoner?" He said the word with disgust, "Let's get something straight here! She is not a prisoner! She is a sick, scared, sixteen-year-old _child_!"

The woman starred at him, her round face draining of color, "Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

Barton swore under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Damn it, Charlie." He sighed deeply, reaching up and activating the communication device in his left ear, "This is Agent Barton. Command, do you read?"

There was static, then Director Fury's voice split through the radio, "Go ahead Barton."

"Be advised." Clint said heavily, "Songbird has flown her cage. Repeat, Charlotte Gale is loose. Level 8. Subject is wounded and…" He choose his next word carefully, "…volatile. Approach with extreme caution."

"Roger that, Agent Barton." Even through the comm, Clint could see the irritated look on Fury's face, "Care to elaborate?"

Barton frowned, his heart plummeting into his stomach, "Subject shows signs of heightened strength, sir."

Silence. And then, "Can you repeat that for me, Agent?"

He swallowed thickly, "She's got super strength."

"Heard." Director Fury's voice was grave.

Barton took a deep breath, "Orders, sir?" There was a long pause, "Sir?"

"Take her in," Fury answered solemnly, "by any means necessary."

Clint's swearing was drowned out by deafening blare of the alarm system.

* * *

Charlie ran as fast as her feet would carry her; down corridor after corridor, through door after door, turn after turn, mindlessly hurtling deeper into the complex. She sped passed the dark windows of labs, server rooms, and offices, desperately searching for something familiar. Sirens were screaming all around her, echoing throughout the metallic halls as flashing red light alerted everyone to her escape.

It was not long before she began to feel light-headed. Collapsing against the wall, it took everything she had to remain upright. She groaned, feeling the hot, slick blood streaming down her arm and dripping off her finger tips. She squeezed her eyes shut, gathering up all her courage as she forced herself to look down at the wound. "Oh God!" She gasped, moving her hand aside to examine the gash, a new stab of pain radiating from the sudden movement. "Uh... Okay…" She muttered, take deep breaths through her nose, "Not bulletproof. Good to know."

She was surprised to see how shallow it was. The bullet had only grazed her. Regardless, a small puddle of blood had formed at her feet. She needed to stop the bleeding, or at least slow it down; otherwise she would pass out from blood loss before she could find her way out of this labyrinth. She looked down at her tank top, gripping it by the bottom and tearing the fabric all the way around her middle, smearing scarlet fingerprints on the white cotton. Taking the strip of cloth, she wrapped it tightly around the abrasion, gritting her teeth as she tried not to make a sound. It hurt like hell, but she forced herself to bite down on one end, yanking back hard while pulling the other with her right hand. A muffled whimper escaped her and black spots danced in her vision.

Charlie inhaled, shaking from the effort and cursing inwardly. Glancing up, she found herself staring at the glass eye of a camera, fixed securely on her. "Shit!" She frowned, glaring at the device with loathing. _You've got to keep moving. _She ordered herself, _Move! Now! _

She began sprinting down the passage, the alarms grating on her nerves as she gazed around frantically for any indication of where she was. She had not made it fifty feet when the rhythmic sound of footfalls reached her, clamoring up from behind. Glancing back, Charlie felt her stomach do a somersault as three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in black suits slid around a corner and into the hall. "There!" She heard one of them shout, pointing as the others made to pursue her.

Charlie swore, forcing her body to move faster, darting ahead of them. Each stride seemed to propel her further forward than ever before; the more potency she hit the ground with, the quicker she seemed to move, the trio of G-men falling further behind. She spun around the next corner, bounding down this new corridor with impossible ease. From ahead of her, half a dozen agents spilled out of a doorway to the left. She instantly turned right, down yet another glinting passage, then left, a then right again. Glaring up at the cameras as she hurried passed, she sprinted on, the agents continuing to snap at her heals.

She made another left, desperately sucking air into her lungs as she skidded to a halt. She had come to a fork in the road; three hallways stretched out in front of her. She looked to the left, to the right, and to the passage straight ahead in panic. _Which way? Which way?! _She thought frenziedly, the sound of the agents gaining on her melding with the screaming sirens. She swallowed, realizing that she was hopelessly, undeniably, miserably, lost. _God, what do I do? _

"Charlie!"

She thought she heard someone whisper her name. Charlie shook her head, trying to rattle out all the noise pollution echoing in her brain.

"Charlie! Over here!"

Her head snapped to the right, "Dr. Selvig?" The older man had his head poking through the crack in a laboratory door ten feet away. He reached his hand out, hurriedly gesturing for her to follow him. Charlie hesitated, but the agents would be rounding that last corner any second. Glancing uncertainly over her shoulder, she jogged to him as he stood back, allowing her to slip passed him and into the room.

The only light came from a computer monitor on a nearby desk and the flashing red bulb above the entrance. Dr. Selvig slid the door shut behind her, and Charlie heard it lock. She turned to stare at him, distrustful. The harsh glow of the screen made him look a decade older as his watery eyes traveled up and down her body, widening in fright as they came to rest on her face. "Good God," He breathed, "What's happened to you?"

"Um…" Charlie huffed, trying frantically to catch her breath and slow her heart rate, "I—I got shot. They—they shot me! I can't believe they actually shot me!"

"What?" Selvig exclaimed, as angry as he was stunned, "Who? Who shot you?"

"I—I…" Charlie sputtered as the reality of what had happened began to set in, "It all happened so fast! I—Um… I think it was that Barton guy…"

"Barton?" Dr. Selvig looked troubled, "Are you sure?"

Charlie shook her head, "No…But, he was the only one I saw. And I—" She stopped, studying the Doctor's face, "I was trying to get away from him."

Selvig sighed, exasperatedly rubbing his eyes, "This whole crazy mess has gotten out of hand!"

"I don't…" Charlie began tentatively, begging him as more tears welled up in her eyes, "Why? Why are they doing this to me? Do you know? Can you tell me?"

Selvig gazed at her dejectedly, "Oh, Charlie… I don't. I'm so sorry. I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I can't. The truth is we don't know. And, that's the problem." He sighed heavily, reaching out to her, "We don't know what's happened to you. We don't have the means to even begin to understand it, whatever it did to you… And, after what happened in New York…" He shook his head, "They're afraid of what they don't understand."

"So…" Charlie swallowed thickly, "They're never…going to let me go, are they?" She looked up at him with terrified eyes, her voice cracking, "Even if I make it out of here, they'll just…What do I do?"

"You run." Dr. Selvig studied her closely, taking a steadying breath and setting his mouth in a firm line before he ripped his keycard out of his coat pocket. He pressed the card into her hands, folding his fingers around hers tightly, "Take this." He urged her quickly, "Take a right from this door, and then follow the hallway until you make it to E Passage. Turn right again; keep going until you hit the catwalk. Take a left. The card will open the elevator doors for you. The code is 5-3-7-6-9-0. Once you make it to the surface, you start running and you don't stop! Stay off the radar as best you can! No cell phones, no computers, or electronics of any kind! Banner… He…He managed to evade S.H.I.E.L.D. for years… I—I'll tell him where you've gone! He'll find you! Show you what to do! Get you out of the country!"

"Banner?" Charlie gasped, shocked, "Why would Banner—?"

"No time!" Selvig waved his hand, pulling out his wallet. He pushed a wad of bills into her hand, "I wish it was more, but it's all I have." He stepped back towards the door, "I'll go out first, make sure the coast is clear."

She watched as his hand paused over the latch. "Dr. Selvig…" Charlie stepped forward, looking him in the eyes, "Why are you doing this?"

He glanced at her over his shoulder, "Because it's the right thing to do." And, with that, he opened the door and cautiously stepped out into the hall.

The door shut in Charlie's face, leaving her shrouded in the semidarkness. Still, she slid to the side, resting her shoulder against the door as she peered out the small window. She watched Selvig step into the center of the corridor, glancing around warily. She spared a quick peek at the cash in her hand, though it was too dark to count, and tucked it securely in the waistband of her pants.

She startled, her grip on the keycard tightening, as a shadow suddenly fell across the pane. Charlie crouched against the wall as the graceful form of a woman appeared. It took her a few seconds to recognize the red curls bouncing above the skintight black cat-suit. Agent Romanoff approached Dr. Selvig with a smooth, confident stride, "Doctor, you should return to your personal quarters immediately."

"Yes," Dr. Selvig replied almost too quickly, "I was making my way there when I saw the girl run passed. What's happened to her? She had blood—!"

"We'll take care of her. Don't' worry." Agent Romanoff said coolly. Behind her, several agents in body armor marched towards them. "Which way did she go?"

Dr. Selvig did not hesitate. He pointed animatedly to the left, "Back towards M Passage. Hurry!"

Agent Romanoff scrutinized him closely. For a moment, Charlie thought they were done for, but the female agent nodded curtly. "Thank you, Doctor." She hummed, signaling of the S.W.A.T. team to follow through, "Now, get yourself to the civilian quarters, please."

"You got it." He nodded weakly. Agent Romanoff gave him another suspicious glance before turning her attention to the far corridor, moving swiftly passed him with the other agents following her in formation.

Dr. Selvig waited for several more moments after they were out of sight to return. Charlie jumped back as he slid open the door. "Hurry," He whispered to her, ushering her out into the hall, "That will buy you a few minutes, but not long."

Charlie stepped over the threshold, glancing passed Selvig apprehensively, before turning to him with soft eyes. "Thank you!" She murmured to him, rising up on her toes to kiss him gently on the cheek.

"Yes! Yes!" He grinned sadly down at her as she pulled away; waving his hands violently in front of him, "Go! Hurry!"

She nodded stiffly, turning away from him swiftly and dashing down the passage, pausing only momentarily to glance back. "Good luck." He muttered, watching as she seemed to glide over the shining tile like a ghost.

Charlie did exactly what Dr. Selvig had told her to. She raced down the hallway, passing H Passage on her right and G Passage to her left, the lenses of the security cameras illuminated by the alarm's warning lights as they trained after her. Another two hundred feet, and she found E Passage on her right with a relieved huff. She skidded around the corner, glancing over her shoulder as she did. Her heart skipped a beat as she glimpsed Agent Romanoff sprinting after her, a good hundred yards back. She darted into the new corridor, the catwalk instantly coming into view, guarded by two agents in tactical gear.

Charlie immediately sped up. She was operating on pure instinct now, trusting that her body knew what to do, because her mind sure as hell did not have a clue. The agents jerked their rifles up in unison, screaming at her to stop or they would shoot. She charged them, hearing the rifles report on either side of her. The bullets hit the ground in front of her as Charlie dropped to her knees, laying flat on her back and gliding between their legs with impressive inertia. Popping back onto her feet and speeding onward, she left the two agents tripping over themselves as they tried to spin around to pursue her.

She took a left onto the catwalk, still struck by the sheer size of the hangar as she scurried alongside the railing. She glanced over the side, at what had to be a six story drop down to a myriad selection of vehicles and aircraft. Up ahead, she could see the elevator's shimmering steel doors, isolated and unguarded. She could have laughed aloud she was so relieved to see it. She forced one last burst of speed out of her feet as she became level with it, nearly tripping as she came to a sudden stop.

Charlie took a deep breath to steady herself; her hands were shaking so badly from adrenaline that she was having trouble lining up the keycard with the electronic lock. She swiped it down aggressively, the keypad glowing green. She grinned like a fool, struggling to enter the code: 5-3-7-6-9-0. There was a beeping noise, and then Charlie heard the rush of the elevator speeding down towards her. "Come on!" She muttered, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet impatiently, "Come on! Come on!"

The arrow above the frame lit up, and the double doors slid open with a metallic clank. She jumped inside, spinning around, her back slamming into the hand rail before she pounced on the control panel. Outside, she could hear the pounding of boots on tile racing towards her. Charlie jabbed her finger onto the "Close Doors" button repeatedly, watching the shadows on the other side getting closer. The doors began their slow progression shut just as Agent Romanoff came into full view, her green eyes locking on Charlie's terrified ones. "Close!" She exclaimed, "Close! Damn it!" The agent reached for the doors, her finger tips inches from the steel as they locked shut.

Charlie pounded her finger on the "Up" button and collapsed against the wall, taking a series of relaxing breaths as she began to hurtle upward, unable to believe that she had made it this far. She ran her hand through her hair, and laughed quietly to herself, "How the hell did I just do that?"

The elevator jerked, violently coming to a halt. Charlie stumbled, grabbing onto the railing to hoist herself back up as the lights died, replaced by the soft, orange glow of the emergency lighting system. She grabbed onto her chest, heart beating rapidly as she straightened and glanced around uncertainly. "Now, that's a real good question." A deep voice stated from nowhere, "How the hell did you do it?"

A cold chill slid down Charlie's spine as her eyes landed on the tiny camera above the control panel, "Director Fury?"

"Glad to see you remember me." Fury said icily, "But, you didn't answer my question."

"Hard to forget the man who kidnaps you…" Charlie said calmly, frowning up at the camera, "And no, I didn't."

"I'm not joking around here, Charlotte." The Director warned her, "You've managed to piss off a lot of people tonight. Myself included."

There was something about talking to the camera, and not the man, that made Charlie feel a little braver. She was not sure why, but it enabled her to hide away her shaking hands and the panic snaking its way around her abdomen. "Yeah…" She drawled, smirking and shrugging her shoulders, "I have that effect on people. What can I say?"

"You can explain to me," He began dryly, "exactly why I have a teenager running around my top secret military base, playing _Rambo_."

Charlie shook her head earnestly, glancing down at her bare feet and fighting the urge to chuckle, "I was always more of a _Die Hard_ fan."

"I'm not laughing." Fury growled.

"Of course not." She looked up at the camera innocently, batting her lashes, "That would require a sense of humor."

"Why don't we sit down and talk about this." There was an irritated edge to his voice, "Before anyone else gets hurt."

"You mean, be 'civil' about this?" Charlie scowled, "No, thanks. I remember how that went for me last time."

"I'll admit," Fury stated genuinely, "What you've accomplished here, tonight, it is impressive. You've put some of my best men to shame—"

"—And, that's my fault? Sounds to me like you need better people—"

"—Imagine how that makes me feel? Kind of hurts my feelings, actually." The Director's voice was menacing, "But, putting all that aside, you get into an elevator? Now, that was just a bad call. You should have known that there would be a security override."

"Your assuming that I didn't." Charlie said flatly, crossing her arms over her chest, "And, you know what they say about people who assume? They make an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me'."

Director Fury's tone darkened, "Do you really think you stand a chance against us, Miss Gale?"

Charlie chuckled devilishly, grinning menacingly up at the lens, "Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker!"

In a single, fluid movement, Charlie reached up and grasped the camera, yanking it out of the wall with a light tug and crushing it between her fingers with a satisfied sigh. She let the pieces drop with a smirk. She had not expected there to be a security override in the elevators, but thankfully, Director Fury had unknowingly provided her with the answer. She looked up at the ceiling, quickly locating the emergency escape hatch among the panels, "John McClane, eat your heart out." She crouched, shooting up and grasping onto the divider. Bringing her legs up, she thrust her feet into the hatch, propelling herself through the opening and onto the elevator's roof with a soft thud.

"Holy shit!" She gasped, looking above her with eyes the size of saucers. Every floor was marked by the subtle glow of a red orb. There were dozens of them, stacked in a neat row that seemed to go on and on, into a tiny black void at the top. In an instant, her bravado faded away. "You have got to be kidding me…" She groaned, unable to comprehend how far down she was. Claustrophobia threatened to overtake her, but the elevator gave a sudden jolt and began to slowly descend.

Charlie closed her eyes, pulling out every ounce of strength she had left in her and focused it on the obstacle in front of her. Opening her eyes, she kicked the hatch shut. She couched low, resting her hand on the steel panel in front to her and looking up circumspectly. She pushed the world back; the fear, the anger, and even the air around her, picturing herself weightless and floating somewhere less terrifying. She took a deep breath, "Here goes nothing…"

She pushed up with all her might. There was the unmistakable sound of metal grinding against metal as the elevator was thrust down several feet, pulling the cables dangerously tight. Charlie soared upward, rushing passed the lights so quickly that they blurred together in a single red line. It took her breath way. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her stomach did a flip. The air grasped at her, wrapping itself into her hair and clothing, trying to pull her back down, but she shoved it away. Never had Charlie felt so alive! It was incredible! Amazing! Marvelous!

"Yeeeeah!" She shouted in pure elation, ascending towards freedom at breakneck speed, the void at the top growing larger by the second. _Oh..! _Charlie thought frantically, blood running cold, _Stop! Stop! _

She willed herself to slow down, focusing all her energy on stopping. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized that there was not enough space. Charlie brought her arms up to shield her head, squeezing her eyes shut and bracing for impact, but it did not come. She opened her eyes, discovering herself floating steadily in front of a pair of metal doors. She let out the breath she had been holding. Reaching forward and grabbing onto the frame, she maneuvered her fingers in between the doors and forced them apart with a minute grunt, revealing the back of the concealing cabinet. Grabbing the top of the doorway, she thrust her legs forward, sending the aluminum locker sailing across the office and crashing into the hallway beyond.

Charlie landed cat-like inside the doorway, reluctantly allowing gravity return to her. Her body felt like lead, needing time she did not have to readapt. She stood, a little unsteady at first. A grin split across her face, proud of what she had just accomplished as she strode across the office with her head held a little higher. She moved down the narrow hallway, passed the interrogation rooms and into a lobby area without a single sign of resistance. There were no alarms ringing up here, and no flashing lights. In fact, there was no one around. Not a single soul appeared as she threw open the door and stepped out into the night air.

She breathed deep and closed her eyes, savoring the fresh breeze as it brushed gently across her skin. Never had she been so happy to step into the cold. Her breath rose in clouds before her, floating into the clearest sky she had ever seen. Millions of stars speckled the black expanse, glittering brightly, unhindered by the smog of the city. You could never see stars like this in Boston.

She brought her attention to more earthly matters, sprinting across the lawn, heading towards the runway as swiftly as her tired muscles would allow. That was when she became aware of the deep rumble coming from behind the buildings. It was soft at first, growing louder by the second as its source came closer; the deafening _thump-thump-thump_ vibrating through her chest. She spun around on her heels, gawking in fright as the roaring Blackhawk burst over the horizon. The military helicopter made a tight circle in the sky, zeroing in on her with ease as a blinding white light burst down on her. She shielded her eyes with her hands, shrinking away as the war bird hovered fifty feet above her threateningly, the wind from its blades whipping at her exposed skin like cold knives, forcing her to back away.

Charlie could not believe what was happening. She squinted up at the metal monstrosity, utterly frozen in fear. Her heart beat in unison with the swirling blades. "No…Stop…" She whispered, retreating as the helicopter shifted in midair, forcing her to turn her back to the control tower. "Stop it!" She said, trembling as she glimpsed the outline of the gun in the spotlight, "Leave me alone!"

The voice of the pilot boomed over the loudspeaker, "Surrender! Or we will open fire!"

Frustrated tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over as she laced her fingers in her hair, thrashing her head back in forth. This could not be happening! This was not happening! But, the light burned through her eyelids, proving her wrong. She had been so close! So close!

"Last chance!" The pilot warned, "Surrender!"

"Leave me alone!" Charlie stared up at them, overwhelmed by the noise, and the light, and the fear. It was all too much! She could not bear it anymore! She just wanted to go home! Why couldn't they understand that? She just wanted to go home! She fisted her hands, thrusting them down viciously as she threw her head back and screamed, "LEAVE ME _ALON__**IEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!**_"

* * *

**Okay... Chapter 11 finished! :)**

**I hope you liked it! Chapter 12 will follow soon! **

**Part Three is titled after "Bulletproof" by Family Force 5 (La Roux Cover). I just like that version better and the tone fits the story more. **

**I don't own _Die_ _Hard_, obviously. But, I couldn't help but throw in the reference. :D If you haven't seen the original _Die Hard_, made in '88, I highly recommend it! It's an awesome action flick and it's funny. **

**Thanks for reading! You are all wonderful, lovely people! **

**As always, reviews and feedback are welcome! **


	13. Chapter 12

**Hi there! This story takes place in the Marvel Cinematic Universe of_The Avengers_, after_Iron Man 3_, so beware,**SPOILERS! ** However, there is one major difference: in this story,Stark DID NOT have his arch reactor removed.I just like him having it and I need it for later plot points.**

**I own nothing.**

**Rated T for Violence and Strong Language**

* * *

**Part Three:**** Bulletproof **

**Chapter 12**

"LEAVE ME _ALON__**IEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!**_"

The words boomed from Charlie's mouth in a solid wall of sound. The mighty roar of the helicopter's twin engines was drowned out by her staggeringly high pitched wail as the first wave hit the metal frame like a brick barrier, sending shivers throughout the entire shell and shattering the spotlight instantly. The repeated surges of noise blasted the Blackhawk unmercifully; the safety glass of the cockpit windows spider-webbed as the rotor mast swiveled and burst into sparks, its four whirling blades and stub wings splintering in midair. The machine swerved violently to the right, suddenly plummeting towards the concrete.

She clamped her mouth shut, clasping her hands tightly over her lips as she stared up at the distressed bird in horror. It fell at an alarming rate, careening over her head as she threw herself to the ground, and crashed into the earth with an ungodly _crunch_. Rolling onto its side as it sparked across the asphalt, the blades slammed into the runway and shattered. Debris sailed through the air, shooting in every direction. The boom snapped in two. The tail rotor spun free, flying directly over her and impacting just beyond, as the Blackhawk slid to a rest thirty yards away.

Charlie lifted her head slowly, her vision unsteady from the violent tremors of fear that rocked her body. Her eyes locked on the wreckage, widening with shock and horror as she watched sparks dance across the runway. She could not believe what she was seeing. A thousand questions ripped through her mind all at once: _What just happened? Did I do that? What was that sound? Did it come from me? Was that my voice? That's not possible! Is it? Oh God! What's happening to me? God please! No! _

She rose shakily to her feet, stumbling as she struggled to remain up right. Cradling her injured arm, she stood facing the downed aircraft as the chill autumn air pushed against the throbbing bandage. The pungent odor of fuel teased at her nostrils and Charlie frowned at the sting of the fumes. She swallowed dryly, the cold asphalt biting at her bare toes. She was frozen, rooted to the spot, and unable to think through her internal panic.

Suddenly, from somewhere deep within her consciousness, she heard a small voice telling her to go. She blinked several times, the voice in her mind getting louder, coaxing her smoothly to run. To leave. She was free now. There was nothing left in her way.

Charlie pulled her eyes from the helicopter, glancing to her left at the wide open expanse of the airfield as they wondered over the runway, to the tall grass, to the chain link fence, and to the spotty trees beyond. Beyond that she could just disappear. Beyond that was freedom. Nothing else mattered; not money, or transportation, or even the destination. Those things were trivial and no longer important. Being free was the only thing that mattered now. Being anywhere but here was all that ment anything. Logic be damned.

She took a step towards the boundary, but stopped. The sound of electricity buzzing over the concrete vibrated in her ears as the noxious fumes from the fuel tank wisped under her nose. She told herself not to look back. She repeated it over and over again as she ordered herself to take another step, but she could not bring herself to do it.

She gave in, glancing over her shoulder at the crippled Blackhawk as guilt knotted in her stomach. Her moist eyes landed on the cracked glass of the cockpit. There was no movement she could see, not even a fleeting shadow. She risked another quick glimpse at the fence line, as the realization of what she was considering hit her. A fresh stab a panic spread through her, chasing the numbing clouds from her mind away. She took an erratic breath through her nose as she locked her jaw and sprinted the other way.

She could feel the glass and metal under her feet as she bolted towards the wreck. The sharp, jagged, edges clawed at her as she scrambled forward, but nothing managed to cut into her skin as Charlie clambered over one of the massive blades. The cockpit's windows were so fractured, they looked almost completely opaque as she struggled to climb onto the airship's roof and scale to the pilot side door. But, she was too small. Her fingers slipped on the metal as she fell back onto the runway, landing roughly on her bottom with a discouraged wince.

Charlie was in a full blown panic now. The smell of fuel had saturated the air. She was running out of time! She needed to get to the pilot! Her breathing was shallow and uneven as she rushed to get back on her feet. Climbing up the roof was no use; her hands were shaking too badly. She forced herself to take a deep breath, trying desperately to calm the storm of her thoughts as she bent her knees and braced herself, leaping up from the ground with all her strength.

Shooting strait up into the air, she landed violently on the helicopter's fuselage, collapsing to one knee on impact. Charlie lunged for the door handle, pulling upward frantically with all her might, but it refused to budge. It had been dented during the collision and was jammed shut. She grunted, pulling harder. She heard the metal groan in protest as it distorted, popping and whining as Charlie pulled it free of its hinges with one final, hard yank. The action was so forceful that she nearly lost her balance as she tossed the steel scrap aside.

Kneeling down beside the portal, she hysterically searched for the crew. The pilot was tangled in his harness. He hung limply out of his seat, where he was hunched unmoving against the window. Charlie tried to reach down to him, but he was too far away. "Nnnah…" She heard movement from within the Blackhawk's belly, "H—help…me…"

"Hold on!" Charlie whispered faintly, too afraid to speak any louder, "Just hold on!"

_WOOSH!_

The heat rose around her like sinking into a boiling bath. The brilliant glow of the flames burned into her retinas as they devoured the ground around her. "Jesus!" She prayed, looking down at the pilot with unadulterated terror in her eyes. And, without giving it a single thought, Charlie dropped down into the cockpit.

She was instantly choked be smoke, coughing as she climbed down over the pilot's seat and control panel. She glimpsed movement between the seatbacks, in the body of the bird. The gunner lay on his side, blood painting his face scarlet, and his calf trapped under a large metal case of some sort. Charlie climbed towards him, the air becoming more and more dense with smoke. He looked up at her with a forward mix of fear, confusion, and anger, as she gripped the case tightly and lifted. It must have weighed more than a hundred pounds, but she lifted it like it was filled with air. "Go!" She rasped, "I'll get him! J—just go!" The gunner pulled his foot free, staring at her with his mouth hanging open as he hurriedly scurried for the opening.

Her eyes were burning unmercifully as Charlie climbed back over the seat, grabbing hold of the pilot's harness. The crackle of the flames became louder as she pulled at the straps, but the harder she pulled, the tighter they wrapped around him. She franticly searched his belt and vest, finally finding a knife tucked into the mouth of his boot. She unsheathed it, slashing at the harness with quivering hands. He fell forward, collapsing onto her with two hundred pounds of dead weight. She struggled to get a good grip on him because of the awkward angle he was in, but she clutched him tightly and pulled towards the opening above her head.

Lifting him onto her shoulder, Charlie pushed off from the seat with all the strength she could muster. She darted upward, bounding a good twenty feet into the air before she came crashing down on the concrete. She manage to keep the pilot from hitting the ground, her knees taking the brunt of the fall. Stumbling forward and unable to hold the man a second longer, she laid him on the runway, nearly collapsing onto of him as she hacked the smoke from her lungs.

She glanced back at the helicopter where it lay smoldering a good ten yards away before turning her attention to the unmoving pilot. Blood poured freely from his ears, nose, and mouth as Charlie pressed her fingers against his throat, checking for a pulse with baited breath. Her heart froze in her chest the instant she realized that his was no longer beating. "Oh no…" She gasped quietly, laying her ear against his still chest, "No! No! No! No! No!"

She bolted upright, running her fingers through her hair as her chest rose and fell rapidly with renewed alarm. Tears glistening at the corners of her eyes, she shook her head loosely from side to side. "Oh God!" She uttered softly, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" She dropped her hands to her lap. She looked down at her open palms, "What do I do? What do I..?"

Charlie pounced forward, clasping onto the man in desperation. She lifted his chin gently, clearing is air way, and pinched his nostrils closed. Pressing her lips to his open mouth, she forced two long breaths into his lungs. She pulled back abruptly, the metallic taste of blood on her tongue as she ran her fingers down his chest to locate the end of his sternum. "Come on!" She begged him in a teary whisper, "Come on! Please!" She pressed her fists under his ribcage, pushing down repeatedly and counting out the compressions under her breath. Returning to his mouth and nose, she only managed to blow a single gust of air before his body jerked. Charlie jumped back as the pilot's chest filled with air all on its own. His eyes opened blearily, rolling around to look at her before closing again. She reached down to check his pulse, sobbing with relief when she felt the steady flow of blood under his skin, "Oh! Thank God!"

She sat back, resting her weight on her feet as she ran her quaking hands through her hair and took a deep breath. Leaning her head back, she gazed up at the night sky though the water streaming down her cheeks. Instantly, Charlie's eyes locked on a singularly brilliant star glistening directly above her. She stared at it, inexplicitly transfixed as the familiar sensation of homesickness wrapped its way around her ribs.

_KA-BOOOOOM! _

Many things happened all at once. Charlie's body jolted, her heart skipping a beat as the fuel tank blew the Blackhawk to bits behind her, the shockwave instantly stealing the oxygen from her lungs. She threw herself on top of the unconscious pilot, shielding him the best she could as the heat barreled down on them. Suddenly, a smothering weight collapsed on top of her. Charlie's first instinct was to push it off, whatever it was, but it pushed her back down. That's when she felt the hard, warm outline of muscle coil around her with a steel-like grip and the soft rise and fall of a well defined male chest against her shoulder blades. There was a loud metallic clang from over her head, and her entire body clenched tighter as she squeezed her eyes shut.

She was not sure how long they stayed like that, but after what seemed like minutes, the deafening blast had died down to a dull roar yards away. Charlie felt the weight above her gently pull away. Slowly and shakily, she sat up, barely aware of the figure to her left as she glanced over her right shoulder at the glow of the flames licking themselves around the hollowed out shell of the helicopter. She swallowed down the sob that rose in her throat and looked back down at the pilot, watching the rise of his chest carefully. He was alive. She was alive. She felt sick to her stomach she was so overwhelmed.

She felt movement on her flank. Her eyes fell from the pilot's vest to the concrete, tracing along the flicking shadow beside her. The first things that caught her notice were his red boots. She thought it was odd; a man wearing calf high, red leather boots. Then blue caught her eye, along with stripes of red and white around his abdomen. He had matching red leather glove on each hand, a glistening shield strapped to his left forearm, and a single white star in the center of his chest. She blinked several times, her brain struggling to make sense of what she was seeing as she brought her gaze up to his face.

Charlie's heart bottomed out into her stomach as she inhaled sharply. The most intense blue eyes she had ever seen were staring at her through the familiar mask of Captain America. "Are you alright?" He asked solemnly, his handsome mouth set in a firm line.

Charlie's voice had disappeared. A completely new fear struck her as she stared up at the Avenger: the knowledge that she had, in fact, done something wrong. Maybe even something…evil. She glanced down at the blood trickling from the pilot's orifices and then back up at the cracking war bird in a panic. "I—I didn't… I didn't mean too!" She muttered hysterically, "I—I didn't know! I didn't know! I swear! I didn't know!"

The Captain's eyes widened slightly as his jaw relaxed into an empathetic frown. He nodded slowly. "Okay." He told her gently, reaching forward to rest his hand on her shoulder, "Okay."

The thunder of combat boots on asphalt rolled over her in an instant and Charlie was on her feet, spinning around to find a dozen rifles leveled directly at her, painting her chest with red dots from their laser sights. She stumbled back, Captain America rising quickly beside her, as she watched Director Fury striding behind his soldiers with his leather coat sweeping the ground. Each agent was clad in black body armor from head to toe; their faces obscured by tinted goggles, making them seem less human. "Ignorance," Fury growled as he came to a stop, "is no excuse. You were warned that there would be consequences."

Charlie stared down at the scarlet spots dancing over the cotton of her tank top, frozen in fright. She looked up at Captain America with pleading eyes, silently begging him to help her. He shifted, his face stern, but before he could make a move, a high pitched whistle filled the sky. It was the unmistakable sound of something flying towards them at high speed.

Iron Man came crashing out of the sky with a loud metallic thud, fracturing the pavement under his boots and right fist as they slammed into the ground not six feet in front of Charlie. She watched as the Armored Avenger straightened, the sights of the rifle now glinting off his crimson and gold torso. He turned to glance at her, and Charlie's blood ran cold. He turned back, the glow of his eyes gleaming menacingly as they focused on Fury and the agents. "Funny…" His tinny voice spat sarcastically, "That never seems to stop you."

Fury's scowl deepened, "Get out of the way Stark!"

Charlie stared as Iron Man flexed his fingers at his sides, the sound of surging energy reaching her ears as his palms illuminated with a bright blue light. He threw his hands up, aiming them at the riflemen, "Make. Me."

"Tony," Captain America took a step towards his teammate, reaching out to him and cautioning him in a hushed tone, "Think about what you're doing…"

"Listen to him Stark," Fury pushed, "Or better yet, look around you! Look at what she's done!" He spread his arms wide, gesturing to the burning shell of the Blackhawk and its injured crewmember, still lying untouched on the runway. "Do you really think—?" But, the Director was cut short.

"Stop!" Charlie stared at the pilot with unadulterated remorse as she slowly raised her hands into the air, "Please, just…just stop!" Moving with small, cautious steps, she inched her way forward. Captain America stared at her in surprise as she passed, his mouth hanging open slightly, but Charlie could not bring herself to look at him. She could feel the slits in Iron Man's visor burning into her skull as she moved in front of him, but she did not turn around. The agents all shifted in unison as she got closer, lifting their rifles to steady them, once again spotting her in red. Charlie tried not to think about them. She focused her gaze on the building behind Director Fury, her body shaking too badly to get a steady view.

"I…" At first the words refused to come out. Charlie swallowed and took a deep breath, "I surrender."

* * *

**First off, let me say I'm sorry this took so long. I know I left you at a cliff hanger and that was not cool of me. Things in my life just got complicated really fast and I found myself lacking both inspiration and motivation. I shall try really hard not to go so long again, at least not on a cliff hanger. **

**So there you have it. Chapter 12 is finished. I will post Chapter 13 a soon as I can. **

**What happens to Charlie? Will she ever be free of S.H.I.E.L.D.? Stay tuned to find out. **

**Thanks for sticking with me. You are all wonderful people that make my life better. I love you all. And I hope you enjoy and keep reading. **


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